entrance. Mr. Applegate dismissed the driver, and Mr. Hardy and the two boys accompanied the eccentric man into the house.
Nothing had been disturbed in the library since the discovery of the theft. Mr. Hardy examined the open safe, then drew a magnifying glass from his pocket and with minute care inspected the dial of the combination lock. Then he examined the windows, the doorknobs, all places where there might be finger-prints. At last he shook his head.
"A smooth job," he observed. "The fellow must have worn gloves. Not a finger-print in the room."
"No need of looking for finger-prints," said Applegate. "It was Robinson—that's who it was."
"Better send for him," advised Mr. Hardy. "I'd like to ask him a few questions."
Mr. Applegate rang for one of the servants and instructed him to tell Mr. Robinson he was wanted in the library at once. Mr. Hardy glanced at the boys.
"You had better wait in the hallway," he suggested. "I want to ask some questions and it might embarrass Mr. Robinson if you were here."
The lads readily withdrew, and in the hallway they met Henry Robinson, the caretaker, and his son Perry. Mr. Robinson was calm
