The Complete Works of Arthur Morrison (Illustrated). Arthur Morrison

of that I am sure, for I had to go to that very drawer for something else when I first arrived. But at twelve the tracings had vanished.”

      “You suspect somebody, probably?”

      “I can not. It is a most extraordinary thing. Nobody has left the office (except myself, and then only to come to you) since ten this morning, and there has been no visitor. And yet the drawings are gone!”

      “But have you searched the place?”

      “Of course I have! It was twelve o’clock when I first discovered my loss, and I have been turning the place upside down ever since—I and my assistants. Every drawer has been emptied, every desk and table turned over, the very carpet and linoleum have been taken up, but there is not a sign of the drawings. My men even insisted on turning all their pockets inside out, although I never for a moment suspected either of them, and it would take a pretty big pocket to hold the drawings, doubled up as small as they might be.”

      “You say your men—there are two, I understand—had neither left the office?”

      “Neither; and they are both staying in now. Worsfold suggested that it would be more satisfactory if they did not leave till something was done toward clearing the mystery up, and, although, as I have said, I don’t suspect either in the least, I acquiesced.”

      “Just so. Now—I am assuming that you wish me to undertake the recovery of these drawings?”

      The engineer nodded hastily.

      “Very good; I will go round to your office. But first perhaps you can tell me something about your assistants—something it might be awkward to tell me in their presence, you know. Mr. Worsfold, for instance?”

      “He is my draughtsman—a very excellent and intelligent man, a very smart man, indeed, and, I feel sure, quite beyond suspicion. He has prepared many important drawings for me (he has been with me nearly ten years now), and I have always found him trustworthy. But, of course, the temptation in this case would be enormous. Still, I can not suspect Worsfold. Indeed, how can I suspect anybody in the circumstances?”

      “The other, now?”

      “His name’s Ritter. He is merely a tracer, not a fully skilled draughtsman. He is quite a decent young fellow, and I have had him two years. I don’t consider him particularly smart, or he would have learned a little more of his business by this time. But I don’t see the least reason to suspect him. As I said before, I can’t reasonably suspect anybody.”

      “Very well; we will get to Chancery Lane now, if you please, and you can tell me more as we go.”

      “I have a cab waiting. What else can I tell you?”

      “I understand the position to be succinctly this: The drawings were in the office when you arrived. Nobody came out, and nobody went in; and yet they vanished. Is that so?”

      “That is so. When I say that absolutely nobody came in, of course I except the postman. He brought a couple of letters during the morning. I mean that absolutely nobody came past the barrier in the outer office—the usual thing, you know, like a counter, with a frame of ground glass over it.”

      “I quite understand that. But I think you said that the drawings were in a drawer in your own room—not the outer office, where the draughtsmen are, I presume?”

      “That is the case. It is an inner room, or, rather, a room parallel with the other, and communicating with it; just as your own room is, which we have just left.”

      “But, then, you say you never left your office, and yet the drawings vanished—apparently by some unseen agency—while you were there in the room?”

      “Let me explain more clearly.” The cab was bowling smoothly along the Strand, and the engineer took out a pocket-book and pencil. “I fear,” he proceeded, “that I am a little confused in my explanation—I am naturally rather agitated. As you will see presently, my offices consist of three rooms, two at one side of a corridor, and the other opposite—thus.” He made a rapid pencil sketch.

      “In the outer office my men usually work. In the inner office I work myself. These rooms communicate, as you see, by a door. Our ordinary way in and out of the place is by the door of the outer office leading into the corridor, and we first pass through the usual lifting flap in the barrier. The door leading from the inner office to the corridor is always kept locked on the inside, and I don’t suppose I unlock it once in three months. It has not been unlocked all the morning. The drawer in which the missing drawings were kept, and in which I saw them at ten o’clock this morning, is at the place marked D; it is a large chest of shallow drawers in which the plans lie flat.”

      “I quite understand. Then there is the private room opposite. What of that?”

      “That is a sort of private sitting-room that I rarely use, except for business interviews of a very private nature. When I said I never left my office, I did not mean that I never stirred out of the inner office. I was about in one room and another, both the outer and the inner offices, and once I went into the private room for five minutes, but nobody came either in or out of any of the rooms at that time, for the door of the private room was wide open, and I was standing at the book-case (I had gone to consult a book), just inside the door, with a full view of the doors opposite. Indeed, Worsfold was at the door of the outer office most of the short time. He came to ask me a question.”

      “Well,” Hewitt replied, “it all comes to the simple first statement. You know that nobody left the place or arrived, except the postman, who couldn’t get near the drawings, and yet the drawings went. Is this your office?”

      The cab had stopped before a large stone building. Mr. Dixon alighted and led the way to the first-floor. Hewitt took a casual glance round each of the three rooms. There was a sort of door in the frame of ground glass over the barrier to admit of speech with visitors. This door Hewitt pushed wide open, and left so.

      He and the engineer went into the inner office. “Would you like to ask Worsfold and Ritter any questions?” Mr. Dixon inquired.

      “Presently. Those are their coats, I take it, hanging just to the right of the outer office door, over the umbrella stand?”

      “Yes, those are all their things—coats, hats, stick, and umbrella.”

      “And those coats were searched, you say?”

      “Yes.”

      “And this is the drawer—thoroughly searched, of course?”

      “Oh, certainly; every drawer was taken out and turned over.”

      “Well, of course I must assume you made no mistake in your hunt. Now tell me, did anybody know where these plans were, beyond yourself and your two men?”

      “As far as I can tell, not a soul.”

      “You don’t keep an office boy?”

      “No. There would be nothing for him to do except to post a letter now and again, which Ritter does quite well for.”

      “As you are quite sure that the drawings were there at ten o’clock, perhaps the thing scarcely matters. But I may as well know if your men have keys of the office?”

      “Neither. I have patent locks to each door and I keep all the keys myself. If Worsfold or Ritter arrive before me in the morning they have to wait to be let in; and I am always present myself when the rooms are cleaned. I have not neglected precautions, you see.”

      “No. I suppose the object of the theft—assuming it is a theft—is pretty plain: the thief would offer the drawings for sale to some foreign government?”

      “Of