"Let me try my hand at it," cried Jack. "I have brains--I place them at your service. It is true I never have been able to solve a puzzle from my very earliest hours, but that is no reason why I should not begin by solving this." The scrap of paper was given him. He spread it out on the table in front of him. Leaning his head upon his hands, he stared at it, the expression on his face scarcely promising a prompt elucidation. "The first part is simple, extremely simple. Especially after Mr. Graham's last night's lucid exposition. Otherwise I should have described it as recondite. But the second part's a howler; yes, a howler! 'Right--cat--dog--cat--dog--cat--dog--cat--dog--left eye-- push!' The conjunction is surprising. I can only remark that if that assorted collection of animals is bottled up somewhere in this house all together, that alone would be a find worth coming upon. There will be some lively moments when you let the collection out." "Did you mention anything to Mr. Nicholls about the paper?" asked Madge of Graham. "Not a syllable. I gathered from what he said that the house was done up before it was let--papered, painted, and so on, and that therefore any former landmarks to which it might have been alluding have probably disappeared." "That's what I think, and that's what I mean by saying we shall have to pull the house to pieces." "Even if that is the case, as Miss Duncan puts it, where are you going to begin? You must remember that you will have to continue living in the house while it is being dismantled, and that you must spare yourselves as much discomfort as possible." "It seems that you have to begin by pushing the left eye," said Jack, who still was studying the paper. "Though whether it is the left eye of the entire assorted collection is not quite clear. If that is the case, and that remarkable optic has to be pushed with any degree of vigour, I can only say that I shall take up a position in the centre of the road till the proceedings are concluded." "Why not commence," asked Madge, "with a thorough examination of the room which we're now in?" "You yourself," said Ella, "admitted last night that it was hardly likely that the treasure would be hidden in the same room which contained the will." Madge pursed her lips and frowned. "I've been thinking about that since, and I don't at all see why we should take it for granted. One thing's certain, the room is honeycombed with possible hiding-places. There are hollows behind the wainscot, the walls themselves sound hollow. That unhappy man can hardly have found a part of the house better adapted to his purpose." "See there--what's that?" Ella was pointing to a kind of plaster cornice which ran round the room. "What are those things which are cut or moulded on that strip of beading, if it is beading, under the ceiling?" "They look to me like some sort of ornamental bosses," said Graham. "They certainly are neither cats or dogs," decided Madge.