were piled high against the door next his room, and plainly had not been disturbed for months, or even years.
"There remains the skylight," said Hewitt, "for I perceive, Mr. Telfer, that your room is lighted from above, and has no window; while the grate is a register. There seems to be no opening in that skylight but the revolving ventilator. Am I right?"
"Quite so. There is no getting in by the skylight without breaking it, and, as you see, it has not been broken. Certainly there are men on the roof repairing the leads, but it is plain enough that nobody has come that way. The thing is wholly inexplicable."
"At present, yes," Hewitt said, musingly. He stood for a few moments in deep thought.
"Plummer is longer away than I expected," he said presently. "By the way, what was the external appearance of the missing code?"
"It was nothing but a sort of thin manuscript book, made of a few sheets of foolscap size, sewn in a cover of thickish grey paper. I left it in the safe doubled lengthwise, and tied with tape in the middle."
"Its loss is a very serious thing, of course?"
"Oh, terribly, terribly serious, Mr. Hewitt," Telfer replied, despairingly. "I am responsible, and it will
