“No rabbits?” asked Bernard as he obeyed.
Neither the bureau nor the meticulously tidy drawers of the chiffonier revealed what they sought. Landis hurried to the little table between the windows. The small drawer contained Miss Mount’s sewing things. Among them he found a spool of heavy black thread such as shoemakers use. Most of it had been unwound and clumsily rewound again.
Landis put it in his pocket and turned to the closet. Bernard heard him strike a match and listened to the indeterminate sounds as his companion grubbed about in there. Presently Landis emerged, his face flushed, hanging from his outstretched hand a tangled coil of soft clothes-line. He tossed it to Bernard.
“Hang on to that,” he urged. “There’s something else!”
Half convinced, Bernard stood looking down at the soft rope until Landis returned from his trip through the bathroom, carrying the last cross-bow which they had examined. He watched Landis set it down, clear away the writing material and place the cross-bow on the desk, so that it pointed through the window. Then he moved nearer.
“See these new scratches on the desk?” demanded Landis. “The business end of the stock just fits them! The butt must have been raised on a book or something to get the right aim. That clothes-line was used to lash it down to the desk! And now, look here! The trigger has to be pulled back, of course. So here’s the bathroom doorknob straight behind the bow. Fasten that thread to the trigger, pass it around the doorknob and out the window and—Well, there you are! There’s just one thing lacking, though. If we find that, I’m certain!”
“The other end, eh?” grunted Bernard. “That’s clever work anyway, Landis! I’m proud of you! Now let’s vacate—”
Two minutes of swift, noiseless action and everything they had touched had been restored to its place. They opened the door quietly and moved into the hall. A few seconds after it closed behind them, Susan came running through the curtains from the main building. At sight of them she stopped abruptly.
“Well, what is it?” growled Bernard.
“Oh, sir, aren’t you coming down to breakfast? Miss Mount sent me up to inquire.”