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“I believe,” he said quietly, “I’d smash in the door. It might be something worse than you think.” Swayne called to two of the clerks as he went, and the four men paused for an instant at the entrance to the private office. “Well, do it!” commanded The Thinking Machine irritably. Swayne and the clerks placed their shoulders against the door; then from inside there came a sharp click. It was the key turning in the lock. They drew back and waited. The door swung open, and Carroll in person appeared before them, with both hands behind his back. There was an instant’s pause, then in the strained, harsh voice of Swayne came the question — an accusation: “Where are those securities?” “Here,” responded Carroll, and he produced them from behind his back. “Swayne, you are a childish i***t!” he