Now what was the next step
detectives always took? Oh, yes--they looked for panels; panels
that moved. And when one shoved them away there was a button or
something. She pushed and pressed and finally something did move.
It was the mantelpiece itself, false grate and all, which began to
swing out into the room, revealing behind a dark, hollow cubbyhole,
some six feet by six--the Hidden Room at last!
"Oh, Jack, be careful!" breathed Dale as her lover took Miss
Cornelia's candle and moved toward the dark hiding-place. But her
eyes had already caught the outlines of a tall iron safe in the
gloom and in spite of her fears, her lips formed a wordless cry of
victory.
But Jack Bailey said nothing at all. One glance had shown him that
the safe was empty.
The tragic collapse of all their hopes was almost more than they
could bear. Coming on top of the nerve-racking events of the night,
it left them dazed and directionless. It was, of course, Miss
Cornelia who recovered first.
"Even without the money," she said; "the mere presence of this safe
here, hidden away, tells the story. The fact that someone else
knew and got here first cannot alter that."
But she could not cheer them. It was Lizzie who created a diversion.
Lizzie who had bolted into the hall at the first motion of the
mantelpiece outward and who now, with equal precipitation, came
bolting back. She rushed into the room, slamming the door behind
her, and collapsed into a heap of moaning terror at her mistress's
feet.
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