Roy stood up at last, with an ejaculation of disgust. Then, curiosity laid hold on him, and he began a careful examination of the vault’s mechanism. He pushed the inner doors of steel shut, but without turning the handle to shoot the bolt. Afterward, he scrutinized the portion of the wainscoting that was swung outward to reveal the safe. He moved it to and fro, a little way slowly, finding that it was very delicately balanced, so that it responded to the lightest touch. He inspected the bolts with which it was fitted, and sought to understand exactly the method of their operation, but this persistently escaped him, nothwithstanding his knowledge of mechanical appliances. It was while he was pulling at one of the bolts that the impetus of his effort sent the section of wainscoting into its usual place as a part of the wall. Roy tried to catch it in order to prevent its closing, but he was just too late. He tugged at a projection of the carving, only to find that the masked door resisted his strength. He realized that the bolts had been thrust into their sockets by some device automatic in the act of closing. Greatly annoyed, he began a hunt for the secret spring by which the operation of the bolts must be controlled. In this he failed. Try as he would, the wainscoting rested there before him in an immobility beyond measure exasperating. He went over the entire surface with painstaking care, pressing or pulling at each hollow or projection, and always there was the same irritating lack of response. Roy, with his chin thrust forward belligerently, toiled on in countless futile experiments, only to confess defeat. He was worn with fatigue from the monotonous labor when at last a distant sound startled him, and he looked around, to discover that day had come. Fearful lest he be discovered there, he fled to his room, disgusted by the fiasco. For the first time in his life, he sneered at that delusive faculty, the sixth sense.
CHAPTER XIII
THE CLUE
TO THE astonishment of Roy Morton and May Thurston, this day also passed without the appearance of the engineer at the cottage. The girl, at first experiencing some alarm over this protracted absence, was afterward filled with relief, when it occurred to her that Masters was keeping away because he had finally abandoned his evil intentions. She felt convinced that the failure of his attempt to murder Temple had brought him to realization of the heinousness of his conduct. The thought afforded her great satisfaction, since it relieved her of any necessity for action against him. The change in the situation so cheered her that she accepted with animation Roy’s invitation to walk, and the two passed a particularly agreeable hour in strolling through the woods, finding each topic of conversation charming, and almost forgetting that such an one as the engineer encumbered the earth.
There came another development in the evening, when the four friends were smoking and chatting, as was their custom after the ladies had retired for the night. They were in the music-room with Saxe at the piano, where he had been playing from time to time. Now, however, he had ceased, and rested motionless, with his eyes fixed on the sheet of manuscript left by Abernethey, in a wearisome wondering as to the message that might lie concealed within that bare presentment of the song of gold—as he had come to call the composition. Billy Walker had steadfastly maintained his belief that the clue to the treasure was hidden there, and Saxe was impressed by the idea, although his reason declared it folly.
Presently, Billy aroused himself from the luxury of the morris chair, where he had been communing with an especially black cigar, heaved himself erect with a groan, and crossed the room to the piano. He stood for a little while in silence, staring down at the written page on the rack.
“What’s that?” he demanded. He pointed to the three measures that stood alone at the head of the sheet.
