Almost without a sound she opened the door and let
in Senka, dressed like a real gentleman, with a brand new leather
hand-bag in his hands.
"Ready?" asked the thief in a whisper.
"He's sleeping," answered Tamara, just as quietly. "Look and here
are the keys."
They passed together into the study with the fireproof safe.
Having looked over the lock with the aid of a flashlight, Senka
swore in a low voice:
"The devil take him, the old animal! ... I just knew that it would
be a lock with a combination. Here you've got to know the letters
... It's got to be melted with electricity, and the devil knows
how much time it'll take."
"It's not necessary," retorted Tamara hurriedly. "I know the word
... Pick it out: m-o-r-t-g-a-g-. Without the e."
After ten minutes they descended the steps together; went in
purposely broken lines through several streets, hiring a cab to
the depot only in the old city; and rode out of the city with
irreproachable passports of citizens and landed proprietors--the
Stavnitzkys, man and wife. For a long time nothing was heard of
them until, a year later, Senka was caught in Moscow in a large
theft, and gave Tamara away during the interrogation.
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