“Wait a bit,” exclaimed Rodgers. “Why not unlock the case?”
“If you wish—” Kitty inserted the key in the lock and pulled down the glass door of the box, and she and her companions stared silently at the monster. Suddenly, Rodgers leaned forward and picked up the plaster cast. An exclamation broke from Craige.
“Papers at last!” he shouted. “Look, Kitty—Rodgers—” and as Rodgers removed the cast entirely out of the glass case, they saw that a part of the flooring of the box, which was built to resemble a sandy desert, came with the lizard, leaving a cavity, or false bottom, in which lay some documents. Gathering them up, Craige walked over to the nearest lamp and drawing up a chair sat down.
“With your permission, Kitty,” he said. “These papers are not sealed—shall I open them?”
“Certainly.”
Craige pulled out a short half sheet of foolscap from the first envelope and read its contents aloud:
Know all present that I, Susan Baird, spinster, of Washington, D. C., being of sound mind, do give and devise to my niece, Katrina Baird, all I may die possessed of, real or personal property. This is a special bequest in view of her efforts to support me.
A list of my property and a key to my safe deposit boxes in the bank, certificates of ownership, etc., are placed here with this, my last will and testament.
Signed in the presence of:
Josiah Wilkins, Martha Hammond, and James Duncan, June 20, 1918.