The sash was not fastened, so he deliberately opened it
and stepped inside.
"What shall we do?" gasped Patsy, clasping her hands excitedly.
Beth was always cool in an emergency.
"You creep up to the window, dear, and wait till you hear me open the
inside door," said she. "I'll run through the house and enter from the
living-room. The key is under the mat, you know."
"But what can we do? Oughtn't we to wait until Uncle John and father
come?" Patsy asked, in a trembling voice.
"Of course not. West might rob the cupboard and be gone by that time.
We've got to act promptly, Patsy; so don't be afraid."
Without further words Beth ran around the back of the house and
disappeared, while Patsy, trying to control the beating of her heart,
stole softly over the lawn to the open window of Uncle John's room.
She could not help looking in, at the risk of discovery. Bob West--tall,
lean and composed as ever--was standing beside the cupboard, the doors
of which were wide open. The outer doors were of wood, panelled and
carved; the inner ones were plates of heavy steel, and in the lock that
secured these latter doors were the keys that had so long been missing.
Both were attached to a slender silver chain.
As Patsy peered in at the man West was engaged in deliberately examining
packet after packet of papers, evidently striving to find the missing
stock certificates.
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