He lifted the box from the safe to the table, and narrowly scrutinised its exterior, especially about the hasp, where the padlock had been. "Either the thief was an experienced hand," he said, "or he took some steady practice with a few such padlocks as this before setting to work. There are no signs of banging about or slipping of tools anywhere." "But, of course, banging or anything violent would have been noticed in a place like this," Mr. Bell remarked. "In office hours, yes," responded Hewitt. "But we mustn't forget that office hours are only seven or eight out of the twenty-four." "But you don't suspect burglary, do you?" "I'm afraid, as yet, I've precious little ground for suspecting anything definite," Hewitt answered; "but we must keep awake to every possibility. Now let us see the dummies." He turned them over, and loosened them wherever they were tied. "Yes," he remarked, "quite neatly done. Filled in with ordinary blank foolscap, such as, no doubt, you have in your office--but, then, it is in every other office, too; every stationer has it by the ream. No marks anywhere--no old newspapers, nothing that could give the shadow of a clue." He dropped the last of the papers, and turned to his client. "Mr. Bell," he said, "this thing has been thought out to the last inch. There is something like genius in this robbery--if genius is the capacity for taking pains. My advice to you is to call in the Scotland Yard people at once." "Do you mean you can do nothing?" asked Mr. Bell despairingly. "Don't tell me that, Mr. Hewitt!"