“No, you couldn’t—not even knowing that there’s a catch in this cupboard,” challenged Mr. Beegle. “Here, you try it.”
He closed the dropped panel, leaving the big brass key in the niche, and then waved his hand toward the cupboard beside the fireplace—an invitation to Bob to try.
The young detective could not see much in the cupboard—it was too small—but he felt about with trained fingers. He found a number of knobs and catches, but pressing and pulling on them one after another, and on several at the same time, produced no effect.
“You couldn’t work it in a year unless you knew how,” boasted the old man. “Of course you could tear the cabin apart and find the key that way—but it would take time.”
Once more, after Bob’s failure, Hiram put his hand within the cupboard and an instant later the secret panel dropped. So cleverly was the hidden niche made and so closely did the sliding panel fit into place, that not even with his sharp eyes could Bob see where the joining was in the wall, after the niche had been closed again.
For the old man closed it after taking out the brass key. And with this key in one hand, and the mysterious box in the other, he approached a small inner door.
“This is what I call my strong room,” he said to Bob, as he put the ponderous key in the lock. And it was a big key—like one that might be part of the great lock on some prison door. There was a clicking of the wards and tumblers of the lock, and the door was opened. It was of heavy oak, cross planks being spiked to the inner side.
Bob had his first glimpse into a room that, soon, was to play a part in a strange mystery. In fact, this was Bob’s first view of the cabin where Hiram Beegle lived, though he knew the cabin was situated on this road, for he had seen it before, some years ago. Then no one lived in it, and the place was somewhat in ruins. Now it was a most picturesque home for the old man who lived alone in it.
Bob expected to see a sort of vault when the ponderous door swung back, but he was rather surprised to note that the place contained a table, a chair and a bed, in addition to a strong chest, iron-bound and fastened with a heavy black padlock.
“Do you sleep in here, Mr. Beegle?” asked the lad and he accented the word “sleep,” so that the old man looked at him in some surprise and remarked: