He switches on the
lights.
"'Go to the safe,' he says, and I do it, the new safe, you know.
'Do you know the combination?' he asks me. 'Yes,' I reply, too
frightened to say no.
"'Open it then,' he says, waving that awful revolver closer. I do
so. Hastily he rummages through it, throwing papers here and
there. But he seems not to find what he is after and turns away,
swearing fearfully.
"'Hang it!' he cries to me. 'Where else did your father keep
papers?' I point in desperation at the desk. He takes one last
look at the safe, shoves all the papers he has strewn on the floor
back again and slams the safe shut.
"'Now, come on!' he says, indicating with the gun that he wants me
to follow him away from the safe. At the desk he repeats the
search. But he finds nothing. Almost I think he is about to kill
me. 'Where else did your father keep papers?' he hisses fiercely,
still threatening me with the gun.
"I am too frightened to speak. But at last I am able to say, 'I--I
don't know!' Again he threatens me. 'As God is my judge,' I cry,
'I don't know.' It is fearful. Will he shoot me?
"Thank heaven! At last he believes me. But such a look of foiled
fury I have never seen on any human face before.
"'Sit down!' he growls, adding, 'at the desk.' I do.
"'Take some of your notepaper--the best.' I do that, too.
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