"And having disposed of her," supplied Carl, "you flew up the stairs, applied the key made from the impression—and stole the paper?"
"Yes."
"Beautiful!" said Carl softly. "How cleverly you tricked me!"
Themar shrugged.
"It was very simple."
Carl smiled.
"Where is the paper now?" he inquired.
Themar's face darkened.
"When later I looked in the pocket of my coat," he admitted, "the paper had disappeared utterly. Nor have I found it since. It is a very great mystery—"
"Ah!" said Carl. "So," he mused, "as long as the paper was in my possession, my life was safe, for you must watch me to find it. Therefore I was not poisoned or stabbed or shot at during your original ten days of service. Later, even though you could not lay your own hands upon the paper, things began to happen. Knowing what I did, I had lived too long as it was."