“That is how it happened,” the lawyer repeated gravely. “Your father’s fortune was one of four great fortunes that went into the coffers of my late client.” The formal description of Reale seemed to lend him an air of respectability. “The other three have long since died, neither of them leaving issue. You are the sole representative of the victims. These gentlemen are--let us say--in opposition. This safe,” he waved his hand toward the great steel room that crowned the granite column, “contains the fortune. The safe itself is the invention of my late client. Where the lock should be are six dials, on each of which are the letters of the alphabet. The dials are ranged one inside the other, and on one side is a steel pointer. A word of six letters opens the safe. By turning the dials so that the letters come opposite the pointer, and form this word, the door is opened.” He stopped to wipe his forehead, for in the energy of his explanation he had become hot. Then he resumed-- “What that word is, is for you to discover. My late client, who had a passion for acrostics and puzzles and inventions of every kind, has left a doggerel verse which he most earnestly assured me contained the solution.” He handed a slip first to the girl and then to the others. For a moment the world swam before Kathleen’s eyes. All that hinged upon that little verse came home to her. Carefully conning each word, as if in fear of its significance escaping her, she read:-- “Here’s a puzzle in language old, Find my meaning and get my gold. Take one Bolt--just one, no more-- Fix it on behind a Door. Place it at a river’s Mouth East or west or north or south. Take some Leaves and put them whole In some water in a Bowl. I found this puzzle in a book From which some mighty truths were took.” She read again and yet again, the others watching her. With every reading she seemed to get further from the solution of the mystery, and she turned in despair to Angel. “I can make nothing of it,” she cried helplessly, “nothing, nothing, nothing.” “It is, with due respect to my late client, the veriest doggerel,” said the lawyer frankly, “and yet upon that the inheritance of the whole of his fortune depends.” He had noticed that neither Connor nor Jimmy had read the slips he had handed to them. “The paper I have given you is a facsimile reproduction of the original copy, and that may be inspected at any time at my office.” The girl was scanning the rhyme in an agony of perplexity. “I shall never do it,” she said in despair. Angel took the paper gently from her hand. “Don’t attempt it,” he said kindly. “There is plenty of time. I do not think that either of your rival competitors have gained anything by the advantage they have secured. I also have had in my possession a copy of the rhyme for the past week.” The girl’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. “You?” she said. Angel’s explanation was arrested by a singular occurrence.