expert. "Either that or he set it that way merely
for what we might call a 'bluff,' to throw any casual intruder off the
track. Your father might have possessed both combinations himself."

"And yet he might have shared them with--with another person?"

"Yes."

"And the other--the other person"--Viola hesitated noticeably over the
word--"would have to be present when the safe was opened?" She did not
say "he" or "she."

"Well, not necessarily," answered the expert. "He might have had the
combination in two parts, and used both of them himself. It is often
done. Though, of course, he could, at any time, have shared the secret
of the safe with some one else."

"That would only be in the event of there being something in it that
both he and some other person would want to take out at the same time;
something that one could not get at without the knowledge of the other;
would it not?"

"Naturally, yes. But, as I say, it might be the other way--that the
double combination was used merely as an additional precaution."

"Thank you," said Viola.

She sat for several minutes in front of the opened safe after the expert
had gone, and did not offer to take out any of the papers that were now
exposed to view. There was a strange look on her face.

"Two persons!" she murmured. "Two persons! Did he share the secrets of
this safe with some one--some one else?"

Viola reached forth her hand and took hold of a bundle of papers tied
with a red band-tape it was, of the kind used in lawyers' offices. The
bundle appeared to contain letters--old letters, and the handwriting was
that of a woman.

"I wonder if I had better get Aunt Mary?" mused the girl. "She is the
administrator, and she will have to know. But there are some things I
might keep from her--if I had to."

She looked more closely at the letters, and when she saw that they were
in the well-remembered hand of her mother she breathed more easily.

"If he kept--these--it must be--all right!" she faltered to herself. "I
will call Aunt Mary."

The two women, seeing dimly through their tears at times, went over
the contents of the private safe. There were letters that told of the
past--of the happy days of love and courtship, and of the early married
life. Viola put them sacredly aside, and delved more deeply into the
strong box.

"It was like Horace to keep something away from every one else," said
his sister. "He did love a secret. But we don't seem to be getting at