INCOGNITO
"And there is another point, more significant yet."
"Ah?"
"Yes." Snaith bent forward, elbows on knees, hat and cane swinging, eyes implacable, hard, relentless. "Anisty," he said slowly, "left a tolerably complete burglar's kit in your library."
"Well—he's a burglar, isn't he?"
"Not that kind." Snaith shook his head.
"But his departure was somewhat hurried. I can conceive that he might abandon his kit"
"But it was not his."
"Not Anisty's?"
"Anisty does not depend on such antiquated methods, Mr. Maitland; save that in extreme instances, with a particularly stubborn safe, he employs a high explosive that, so far as we can find out, is practically noiseless. Its nature is a mystery. … But such old-fashioned strong-boxes as yours at Greenfields he opens by ear, so to speak,—listens to the combination. He was once an expert, reputably employed by a prominent firm of safe
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