The room was a fairly large one, and contained the manager's desk, a really handsome piece of furniture which had been Max's father's, two or three tables, bookcases, a screen, and a large and massive safe. Max lost no time. Setting Dale to keep watch and ward at the window which commanded a view of the entrance-gates, he placed the lantern on the desk, so that its light fell upon the safe, and then advanced upon it, key in hand. This was the crucial moment. Had Schenk appropriated the money and securities committed to his charge, or were they still there, awaiting the strange midnight visit from their rightful owner? It was, indeed, a strong indictment of the methods of the invaders that the legitimate owner should have to come by stealth at dead of night, while the unfaithful steward could do as he listed in the broad glare of day. Max's hand trembled, and the lock seemed to stick. Then the lever seemed to jamb, until he feared that, after all, something had happened that would balk him at the last moment. But it was only his momentary nervousness, and the door swung ponderously open at last. "Well, Max, how goes it?" enquired Dale excitedly, turning to watch his friend as he explored the open safe. "All's well, I think. It seems full enough." "Semi-final won by a clear length--eh?" cried Dale in great glee. "Seems a regular walk-over. If we want any real excitement we shall have to go and throw stones at the German guard." "We haven't done yet," replied Max more soberly, though his voice was confident enough. "Here, I'm not going to examine all these papers and documents now. I'm going to cram the whole lot into the bag and be off. We can see what our capture is when we get back to our room." "Right you are. By George, though, what's that?" Both stood stock-still and listened. The sound of voices and the tramp of feet upon the stairs was plainly audible. Max darted an angry look at Dale. In the excitement of the opening of the safe the latter had forgotten that he was on guard at the window, and no doubt this was the result. "You see, Dale?" he cried sharply. "I'm sorry, old man," replied Dale miserably. "No matter. Cram these things into the bag while I lock the safe. Mind, not a sound!" The safe locked, Max sprang noiselessly to the door, replaced the cut-out panels and secured them in position, against anything but a blow or strong pressure, by two or three sharp nails pressed in with his fingers. Flight was out of the question, but it might be possible to make good their escape later on if they could only hide themselves successfully for a little while. For a hiding-place Max had no need to look. He had played at hide-and-seek in that very room with his sister years ago, too often to forget that the best shelter was inside the well of his father's--now the manager's--desk.