Atherton led the way with a small electric torch in his hand, which he turned on for a moment now and then. Professor Tufts came next, carrying the wooden case. Frost followed with the leather bag, and the lawyer brought up the rear.
The waiter remained where he was until the sound of their footsteps had died away, then, with no more noise than a cat would have made, he slipped down the tree and glided after them.
By the time he came in sight of the house, Atherton had forced the catch of the study window—a French window—and he and his three companions were in the act of stealing into the room.
Kinsley was the last to enter, and as soon as he was inside, the curtains were again drawn across the window, but it was left open.
For five or ten minutes Max Berne stood at the edge of the open space, staring at the open window. Then his curiosity overmastered him, he crept up on the terrace, fell on his hands and knees outside the window, and cautiously raised the lower edge of the curtain.
What he saw caused him no surprise, for it was what he had expected to see.
Out of the wooden case Professor Tufts had taken an ingenious little apparatus, of which the essential feature was an oxyhydrogen blowpipe. With the assistance of his companions he was directing the flame to that part of the safe door which surrounded the lock.
So intense was the heat of the flame, that it melted the steel as easily as a hot knife cuts through butter. In an incredibly short time a circular hole had been cut through the door. A minute or two later the safe was open, and Kinsley and Frost were about to pack the cases of jewelry into the leather box.
Suddenly the waiter saw something which almost caused his heart to stop beating.