Instantly, to her utter surprise, the panel moved. It slid open,
disclosing a strong box.
Elaine took it amazed, looked at it a moment, then carried it to a
table and started to pry it open.
It was one of those tin dispatch boxes which, as far as I have
ever been able to determine, are chiefly valuable for allowing one
to place a lot of stuff in a receptacle which is very convenient
for a criminal. She had no trouble in opening it.
Inside were some papers, sealed in an envelope and marked "Limpy
Red Correspondence."
"They must be the Clutching Hand papers!" she exclaimed to
herself, hesitating a moment in doubt what to do. The fatal
documents seemed almost uncanny. Their very presence frightened
her. What should she do?
She seized the telephone and eagerly called Kennedy's number.
"Hello," answered a voice.
"Is that you, Craig?" she asked excitedly.
"No, this is Mr. Jameson."
"Oh, Mr. Jameson, I've discovered the Clutching Hand papers," she
began, more and more excited.
"Have you read them?" came back the voice quickly.
"No--shall I?"
"Then don't unseal them," cautioned the voice. "Put them back
exactly as you found them and I'll tell Mr. Kennedy the moment I
can get hold of him."
"All right," nodded Elaine. "I'll do that. And please get him--as
soon as you possibly can.
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