Chapter IV

The strange, illogical, ironical god of chance, or was it
Providence acting through some careless maid, had left an area
window unlocked in the biggest and newest house on the avenue.
Any house would have been easy for “Crackerjack” if he had
possessed the open sesame of his kit of burglar’s tools, but he
had not had a jimmy in his hand since he was caught with one and
sent to Sing Sing. He had examined house after house, trusting to
luck as he wandered on, and, lo! fortune favoured him.

The clock in a nearby church struck the hour of two. The areaway
was dark. No one was abroad. He plunged down the steps, opened
the window and disappeared. No man could move more noiselessly
than he. In the still night he knew how the slightest sounds are
magnified. He had made none as he groped his way through the back
of the house, arriving at last in a room which he judged to be
the library. Then, after listening and hearing nothing, he
ventured to turn the button of a side light in a far corner of
the room.

He was in a large apartment, beautifully furnished. Books and
pictures abounded, but these did not interest him, although if he
had made further examination he might have found things worthy of
his attention even there. It so happened that the light bracket
to which he had blundered, or had been led, was immediately over
a large wall safe. Evidently it had been placed there for the
purpose of illuminating the safe door. His eyes told him that
instantly. This was greater fortune than he expected. A wall safe
in a house like that must contain things of value.

Marking the position of the combination knob, he turned out the
light and waited again. The quiet of the night continued
unbroken. A swift inspection convinced him that the lock was only
an ordinary combination. With proper—or improper—tools he could
have opened it easily. Even without tools, such were his
delicately trained ear and his wonderfully trained fingers that
he thought he could feel and hear the combination. He knelt down
by the knob and began to turn it slowly, listening and feeling
for the fall of the tumblers. Several times he almost got it,
only to fail at the end, but by repeated trials and unexampled
patience, his heart beating like a trip-hammer the while, he
finally mastered the combination and opened the safe door.

In his excitement when he felt the door move he swung it outward
sharply. It had not been used for some time evidently and the
hinges creaked. He checked the door and listened again. Was he to
be balked after so much success? He was greatly relieved at the
absence of sound. It was quite dark in the room. He could see
nothing but the safe. He reached his hand in and discovered it
was filled with bulky articles covered with some kind of cloth,
silver evidently.

He decided that he must have a look and again he switched on the
light. Yes, his surmise had been correct. The safe was filled
with silver. There was a small steel drawer in the middle of it.
He had a broad bladed jack-knife in his pocket and at the risk of
snapping the blade he forced the lock and drew out the drawer. It
was filled with papers. He lifted the first one and stood staring
at it in astonishment, for it was an envelope which bore his
name, written by a hand which had long since mouldered away in
the dust of a grave.