They went into the apartment over the sitting room, and there, too, the closet had been sealed up by a solid, brick wall.
“Now, we’ll go below and take a look into the closet where Rover’s investigations were so rudely interrupted by the toe of Emma’s shoe,” remarked Nick.
The closet was dark, but Abbott produced a lamp, lighted it, and brought it to Nick’s assistance.
A long stepladder leaned against the wall of the closet.
Nick’s eyes made a careful examination of the ceiling.
Then he moved the ladder to a place about the center of the closet, and mounted the steps until he could place both hands against the board surface over his head, which he did.
He pushed against it without avail.
Meanwhile, Abbott stood below holding the lamp, an interested spectator.
“There is a trapdoor here, I am sure,” said Nick, “but it is somehow secured by—— Ah! Let’s try this.”
He pressed his thumb against the head of a nail, which had a slightly different appearance from the rest; at the same time he maintained the upward pressure of the other hand.