“Now, we’ll look inside, please,” he requested, rising.

Senor Rodriguez unlocked the safe the while Mr. Grimm respectfully turned his eyes away, then pulled the door wide open.  The books had been piled one on top of another and thrust into various pigeonholes at the top.  Mr. Grimm understood that this disorder was the result of making room at the bottom for the bulk of gold, and asked no questions.  Instead, he sat down upon the floor again.

“The lock on this private compartment at the top is broken,” he remarked after a moment.

“Si, Senor,” the diplomatist agreed.  “Evidently the robbers were not content with only fifty thousand dollars in gold—­they imagined that something else of value was hidden there.”

“Was there?” asked Mr. Grimm naively.  He didn’t look around.

“Nothing of monetary value,” the senor explained.  “There were some important state papers in there—­they are there yet—­but no money.”

“None of the papers was stolen?”

“No, Senor.  There were only nine packets—­they are there yet.”

“Contents all right?”

“Yes.  I personally looked them over.”

Mr. Grimm drew out the packets of papers, one by one.  They were all unsealed save the last.  When he reached for that, Senor Rodriguez made a quick, involuntary motion toward it with his hand.

“This one’s sealed,” commented Mr. Grimm.  “It doesn’t happen that you opened it and sealed it again?”

Senor Rodriguez stood staring at him blankly for a moment, then some sudden apprehension was aroused, for a startled look came into his eyes, and again he reached for the packet.

“Dios mio!” he exclaimed, “let me see, Senor.”

“Going to open it?” asked Mr. Grimm.

“Yes, Senor.  I had not thought of it before.”

Mr. Grimm rose and walked over to the window where the light was better.  He scrutinized the sealed packet closely.  There were three red splotches of wax upon it, each impressed with the legation seal; the envelope was without marks otherwise.  He turned and twisted it aimlessly, and peered curiously at the various seals, after which he handed it to the frankly impatient diplomatist.

Senor Rodriguez opened it, with nervous, twitching fingers.  Mr. Grimm had turned toward the safe again, but he heard the crackle of parchment as some document was drawn out of the envelope, and then came a deep sigh of relief.  Having satisfied his sudden fears for the safety of the paper, whatever it was, the senor placed it in another envelope and sealed it again with elaborate care.  Mr. Grimm dropped into the swivel chair at the desk.

“Senor,” he inquired pleasantly, “your daughter and Miss Thorne were in this room yesterday afternoon?”

“Yes,” replied the diplomatist as if surprised at the question.

“What time, please?”

“About three o’clock.  They were going out driving.  Why?”