The Mystery of the Steel Disc | Page 5

truth, I did not know until a moment ago that J. R. Farrington Smith is president of the Municipal Bank. You have just informed me."
He became very stiff in his manner, and turned to his papers as if already thinking of them, and said quietly:
"Oh, then we are talking to no purpose. Good morning, Mr. Duncan."
By a short cut and a brisk walk up Nassau Street I reached the Park Row drug store on the minute of the half hour. A man was in the telephone booth talking, and just outside the half-open door was Rand, directing the queries that the man was making. The stranger was evidently the man from Mahler's. As I approached Rand motioned me to silence.
"Well, my books show the number is D186N," the safe man was saying; "we have no record of complaints or repairs back to '94. Have you any before that?--All right, I'll hold the wire.--Hello, yes. You have none at all. Now, what is the pattern of the time-lock?--Neilson patent, yes.--Well, who superintended the Secret Construction Room when this one was made?--The old man himself, eh?--Where is Neilson now?--How long has he been dead?--Well, was his brother-in-law working with him in 1890?--Wait a moment--"
He kept the receiver to his ear and turned to Rand.
"Is there anything else you wish me to ask, Mr. Rand?"
"Inquire if there has ever been any trouble with any D class vaults. That will be all."
The safe man repeated the question into the 'phone; received the answer, hung up the receiver, turned around and said:
"None but an attempt to blow one open in the Produce Exchange in Springfield. It failed. He says the man who controlled the secret measurements on that set of vaults was the patentee of the time-lock and he is dead. The measurements are sealed and filed. The patents went to his brother-in-law, who worked with him, who sold them outright to the company for a song."
"What was his name?" asked Rand, with disappointment in his voice and manner.
"They have no record and do not remember. He was just a drunken thick-headed Swede."
When Rand was paying the telephone toll the clerk figured on the rate to Cincinnati, so I knew they had been talking to the Mahler offices at the factory. I told Rand just what had happened in Steele's office, and he smiled slightly and said:
"Well, well, the lost bonds or others have been used as collateral for a week past, eh, and Farrington Smith was on the wrong side of the markets. I do not think Rhodes will 'do any time' if he is clever. I have learned that he was a favorite employee of Smith's. Let us go over to the Municipal."
At the bank, the man from Mahler's spoke a moment to the cashier and received his permission to show the vault to "two prospective customers," and a boy was sent to tell Rhodes that the visitors had been accorded the courtesy.
As we passed the president's inner office door, I saw Smith at his desk and noticed how pale and careworn he appeared. I saw that Rand observed it also.
Rhodes admitted us to the enclosure, and, according to Rand's previous instructions, gave us no sign of recognition. Rand and the man from Mahler's examined the interior of the electrically lighted vault. The safe man tapped the floor all around with the stick he carried, sounding for concealed tunneling, but the inspection was unfruitful. The place was in perfect order, and the lock responded repeatedly to the safe man's skilled touch in a way that showed it was in excellent condition. Rand had been standing still, looking carefully at everything within range of his keen eyes, stroking his silver-touched hair lightly with one hand in a way I have observed many times since.
Suddenly he pulled out his watch, looked at the dial of the time-lock, then at his watch, then at the bank clock, an electrically regulated affair hung on the wall. The Clock read 2 P. M. to the second.
"I beg pardon," said Rand to Rhodes. "What time is it by your watch?"
Rhodes took out his timepiece, and said: "I have two o'clock flat."
I now noticed that the dial of the time-lock stood 1.58:30.
"When did you notice that the clock of the time-lock was slow?"
"It is slow, isn't it? Why, I had forgot that. It was last Monday morning, a week ago. I remember I was a little late," replied Rhodes.
"Has any one swept in here since?"
Rand asked this with his eyes fixed on a dark corner at the heel of the right door.
"No, not in the vault."
Rand stooped and put his hand into the corner. For a moment I thought he was picking up something, but he straightened up and brushed his fingers one against the other as if ridding them