tly on the bay, with a long
driveway leading up to the door. Professor Fletcher met us at the porte
cochere, and I was glad to note that, far from taking me as an intruder,
he seemed rather relieved that someone who understood the ways of the
newspapers could stand between him and any reporters who might possibly
drop in.

He ushered us directly into the library and closed the door. It seemed
as if he could scarcely wait to tell his story.

"Kennedy," he began, almost trembling with excitement, "look at that
safe door."

We looked. It had been drilled through in such a way as to break the
combination. It was a heavy door, closely fitting, and it was the best
kind of small safe that the state of the art had produced. Yet clearly
it had been tampered with, and successfully. Who was this scientific
cracksman who had apparently accomplished the impossible? It was no
ordinary hand and brain which had executed this "job."

Fletcher swung the door wide, and pointed to a little compartment
inside, whose steel door had been jimmied open. Then out of it he
carefully lifted a steel box and deposited it on the library table.

"I suppose everybody has been handling that box?" asked Craig quickly.

A smile flitted across Fletcher's features. "I thought of that,
Kennedy," he said. "I remembered what you once told me about
finger-prints. Only myself has touched it, and I was careful to take
hold of it only on the sides. The will was placed in this box, and the
key to the box was usually in the lock. Well, the will is gone. That's
all; nothing else was touched. But for the life of me I can't find a
mark on the box, not a finger-mark. Now on a hot and humid summer night
like last night I should say it was pretty likely that anyone touching
this metal box would have left finger-marks. Shouldn't you think so,
Kennedy?"

Kennedy nodded and continued to examine the place where the compartment
had been jimmied. A low whistle aroused us: coming over to the table,
Craig tore a white sheet of paper off a pad lying there and deposited a
couple of small particles on it.

"I found them sticking on the jagged edges of the steel where it had
been forced," he said. Then he whipped out a pocket magnifying-glass.
"Not from a rubber glove," he commented half to himself. "By Jove,
one side of them shows lines that look as if they were the lines on a
person's fingers, and the other side is perfectly smooth. There's not a
chance of using them as a