In a way it was as delicate an operation as that which sometimes
confronts a physician who is in doubt as to what ails his patient. There
was a twisting and a turning of the knob, a listening with an ear to the
heavy steel door, as a doctor listens to the breathing of a pneumonia
victim. Then with his little finger held against the numbered dial, the
expert again twirled the nickel knob, seeking to tell, by the vibration,
when the little catches fell into the slots provided for them.

It was rather a lengthy operation, and he tried several of the more
common and usual combinations without result. As he straightened up to
rest Viola asked:

"Do you think you can manage it? Can you open it?"

"Oh, yes. It will take a little time, but I can do it. Your father
evidently used a more complicated combination than is usually set on
these safes. But I shall find it."

Viola's determination to open the safe had been arrived at soon after
the funeral, when it was found that, as far as could be ascertained, her
father had left no will. A stickler for system, in its many branches
and ramifications, and insisting for minute detail on the part of his
subordinates, Horace Carwell did what many a better and worse man has
done - put off the making of his will. And that made it necessary for
the surrogate to appoint an administrator, who, in this case, Viola
renouncing her natural rights, was Miss Mary Carwell.

"I'd rather you acted than I," Viola had said, though she, being of age
and the direct heir, could well and legally have served.