He seemed to be particularly enjoying this Morowitch case.

"He has solved some knotty cases," was all I said. "I've come to
believe there is no limit to his resourcefulness."

"I hope not. He's up against a tough one this trip, though, my
boy."

I did not even resent the "my boy." Andrews was one of those men
in whom we newspaper writers instinctively believe. I knew that
it would be "pens lifted" only so long as the case was
incomplete. When the time comes with such men they are ready to
furnish us the best "copy" in the world.

Kennedy quickly rejoined us, carrying a couple of little glass
bottles with ground-glass stoppers.

Morowitch & Co. was, of course, closed when we arrived, but we
had no trouble in being admitted by the Central Office man who
had been detailed to lock the barn door after the horse was
stolen. It was precisely as Mr. Andrews had said. Mr. Kahan
showed us the safe. Through the top a great hole had been made--I
say made, for at the moment I was at a loss to know whether it
had been cut, drilled, burned, blown out, or what-not.

Kennedy examined the edges of the hole carefully, and just the
trace of a smile of satisfaction flitted over his face as he did
so. Without saying a word he took the glass stopper out of the
larger bottle which he had brought and poured the contents on the
top of the safe near the hole. There it lay, a little mound of