After O’Hara had ushered the men over the cave, and had shown them the huge concrete emplacement rising to a height of fully twenty feet, he led the way to the bulky safe which stood in the same position as before.
“Get to work, Jo, and open this up!” commanded O’Hara.
The Jap was at the side of the safe and turning the dial almost before the command was given. Finally, with a vigorous pull, the huge steel doors were forced out, and the interior of the safe was revealed.
Empty! Not a sheet of paper remained.
“They’ve stolen a march on us!” exclaimed one of the detectives in a disappointed tone.
“I’m not so sure of that,” said O’Hara.
He cast a look in the direction of the Jap, who stood by, as silent and inscrutable as the race from which he sprang.
“Where are all the papers that were here, Jo? You might as well tell us.”
“Papers?” he questioned, blankly.
“Yes, papers,” countered O’Hara. “The same papers that were here when you came down into the cave with that Irish detective from the city. Don’t you remember?”