Harley Kent made an impatient gesture. “That means I’ll have to run into the village.” The cigar came out of his mouth. “It was an inside job, Doctor. Whoever robbed that safe knew how to get into it. It was opened by combination.”
Dr. Stone said coolly, “That’s putting it on your own doorstep.”
Harley Kent shrugged. “Figure it out for yourself. There were only three of us in the house—Donovan, the chauffeur, the maid, and myself. Two days ago I forgot to take some papers to New York. I telephoned Donovan to bring them in. They were in the safe and I had to give him the combination. Well, I’m off for the village. I understand you were a police surgeon before——” The man coughed.
“Yes,” said Dr. Stone without emotion. “Before I lost my sight.”
“Well, if you’d like to run over and get the feel of a case again——”
“It might be interesting,” the doctor said slowly.
Harley Kent went down the steps, a door slammed, and the car rolled away. Joe had a glimpse of the uniformed figure at the wheel, and spoke in a hoarse whisper:
“Will Donovan be put in jail, Uncle David?”
“Perhaps.” The hand came up from the dog’s head and tapped the porch railing thoughtfully. “What time is it, Joe? About eight?”
“Five after.”