She wagged her head violently a dozen times, like a china figure on a mantelpiece.
Miss Cornelia pondered.
"It may be locked from the inside; I'll soon find out." She took a wire hairpin from her hair and pushed it through the keyhole.

But there was no key on the other side; the hairpin went through without obstruction.

Repeated efforts to jerk the door open failed.

And finally Miss Cornelia bethought herself of a key from the other closet doors.
Dale and Lizzie on one side--Bailey on the other--collected the keys of the other closets from their locks while Miss Cornelia stared at the one whose doors were closed as if she would force its secret from it with her eyes.

The Unknown had been so quiet during the last few minutes, that, unconsciously, the others had ceased to pay much attention to him, except the casual attention one devotes to a piece of furniture.