"
Obenreizer saw his chance, here, of finding out the repository in which
his employer's private papers were kept.
"Can't I save you the trouble, sir?" he asked. "Can't I put those
documents away under your directions?"
Maitre Voigt laughed softly to himself; closed the portfolio in which the
papers had been sent to him; handed it to Obenreizer.
"Suppose you try," he said. "All my papers of importance are kept
yonder."
He pointed to a heavy oaken door, thickly studded with nails, at the
lower end of the room. Approaching the door, with the portfolio,
Obenreizer discovered, to his astonishment, that there were no means
whatever of opening it from the outside. There was no handle, no bolt,
no key, and (climax of passive obstruction!) no keyhole.
"There is a second door to this room?" said Obenreizer, appealing to the
notary.
"No," said Maitre Voigt. "Guess again."
"There is a window?"
"Nothing of the sort. The window has been bricked up. The only way in,
is the way by that door. Do you give it up?" cried Maitre Voigt, in high
triumph. "Listen, my good fellow, and tell me if you hear nothing
inside?"
Obenreizer listened for a moment, and started back from the door.
"I know!" he exclaimed. "I heard of this when I was apprenticed here at
the watchmaker's. Perrin Brothers have finished their famous clock-lock
at last--and you have got it?"
"Bravo!" said Maitre Voigt. "The clock-lock it is! There, my son! There
you have one more of what the good people of this town call, 'Daddy
Voigt's follies.
Pages:
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169