Even Lizzie's eyes were now fixed on the locked closet.
And the Unknown himself was the first to notice this.
At once his expression altered to one of cunning--cautiously, with infinite patience, he began to inch his chair over toward the wicker clothes hamper.

The noise of the others, moving about the room, drowned out what little he made in moving his chair.
At last he was within reach of the revolver.

His hand shot out in one swift sinuous thrust--clutched the weapon--withdrew.

He then concealed the revolver among his tattered garments as best he could and, cautiously as before, inched his chair back again to its original position.

When the others noticed him again, the mask of lifelessness was back on his face and one could have sworn he had not changed his position by the breadth of an inch.
"There--that unlocked it!" cried Miss Cornelia triumphantly at last, as the key to one of the other closet doors slid smoothly into the lock and she heard the click that meant victory.
She was about to throw open the closet door.