It seemed to Westy that he must have been reading for hours, so intent was he on his book. But he wasn’t reading long at that, for the clock chimed the half hour, and he heard the padding of two pairs of shoes coming up the broad stairway.
He listened as they stopped at the open doorway of the library. The one leading must have stopped abruptly, as its follower shuffled his feet on the polished floor he stopped so suddenly.
“There ees not much time,” the first voice said, right in the room with Westy.
It was Baptiste; he knew the voice and was thankful the big chair was hiding him.
“The safe,” Baptiste went on talking, “ees right here!”
CHAPTER XLVI—A TRUST WELL KEPT
He heard hurried movements and low mutterings, probably in their frenzy to open the safe. Then an exclamation as if it finally yielded.
“Ah,” Baptiste exclaimed. “That’s why I look at Meester Mitchell open the safe. Now I open it, see?”
“The leetle tin box,” the other Mexican exclaimed; “it’s locked!”
Then he heard the heavy safe door swing shut and the sound of footsteps toward the hall.