But no such thing happened, and just then Nick came to the stairway, and he recalled the fact that the building was exactly twelve stories high.
He was on the ninth floor at the moment. Three flights of stairs would carry him to the top floor, and from there, another one, if he could find it, would take him to the roof.
Nick began mounting the stairs, going as rapidly as possible, carrying the weight he had to bear—hoping all the time that he would not meet one of the night watchmen, or any of the residents of the apartment house.
He found the stairs that led to the roof, and he found a locked door at the top of them, but we have already discovered that locked doors offered but little impediment to the onward march of the detective, and in a trice he had it open and had passed out with the safe in his arms, upon the roof.
“Wow!� he half exclaimed, wiping the perspiration from his face and seating himself for a moment upon the safe, to rest. “I have had a good many strange experiences, but this is certainly a new one on me. Anyhow, I’ve got the safe, and I have found rather a secluded place for opening it. There isn’t much likelihood of disturbance up here.�
Nor was there.
He began, as soon as he was rested, to turn the dial, with his ear close to it, and, although he was engaged in that manner upward of half an hour before success came to him, his patience was at last rewarded, and he turned the handle of the lock and opened the door.
The night was clear and there was the half of a moon in the sky, so there was light enough.
The safe being open, he turned it over on its back, so that such light as there was would shine into it—and then he uttered a sharp exclamation of utter amazement.
The safe that he had taken so much trouble to carry to the roof was absolutely empty, save for a pasteboard card, which had fallen to the back of it when he upturned it.