"Guessed it," he ejaculated. "Simple. One of 'em is shorter than the rest."
He dived a hand into the cavity lately filled by the short drawer and produced a small steel despatch box.
"The goods!"
Richard leaned forward with a sudden impulse to prevent the box being opened but the caressing muzzle of Van Diest's revolver coaxed him back to the chair.
"Very simple," said Van Diest. "Maps inside. Open it."
Hipps wasted little time trying to find a key that would fit. He put the box on the floor and kicked it scientifically. From the wreckage he rescued a neat roll of parchment with a tape round its waist. Once again he remarked "The goods!" whisked off the tape and spread out the parchment.
"Writing."
"Read it."
And he read.
"That would be altogether too easy, gentlemen. Perhaps there isn't a map after all."