him up when we get home. And now we had better take a glance at the bedroom; that is, if you can remember which room it was."
"It was on the first floor," said I, "and the door by which I entered was just at the head of the stairs."
We ascended the two flights, and, as we reached the landing, I halted.
"This was the door," I said, and was about to turn the handle when Thorndyke caught me by the arm.
"One moment, Jervis," said he. "What do you make of this?"
He pointed to a spot near the bottom of the door where, on close inspection, four good-sized screw-holes were distinguishable. They had been neatly stopped with putty and covered with knotting, and were so nearly the color of the grained and varnished woodwork as to be hardly visible.
"Evidently," I answered, "there has been a bolt there, though it seems a queer place to fix one."
"Not at all," replied Thorndyke. "If you look up you will see that there was another at the top of the door, and, as the lock is in the middle, they must have been highly effective. But there are one or two other points that strike one. First, you will notice that the bolts have been fixed on quite recently, for the paint that they covered is of the same grimy tint as that on the rest of the door. Next, they have been taken off, which, seeing that they could hardly have been worth
