t magic portmanteau which
had brought him all this happiness, that, too,--but he gave a sudden
start. The closet door, which he had shut as he went out, was unlocked
and open, the portmanteau--his "trust"--gone!

III

Randolph Trent's consternation at the loss of the portmanteau was partly
superstitious. For, although it was easy to make up the small sum
taken, and the papers were safe in Miss Avondale's possession, yet this
displacement of the only link between him and his missing benefactor,
and the mystery of its disappearance, raised all his old doubts and
suspicions. A vague uneasiness, a still more vague sense of some
remissness on his own part, possessed him.

That the portmanteau was taken from his room during his absence with
Miss Avondale that afternoon was evident. The door had been opened by a
skeleton key, and as the building was deserted on Sunday, there had been
no chance of interference with the thief. If mere booty had been his
object, the purse would have satisfied him without his burdening himself
with a portmanteau which might be identified. Nothing else in the room
had been disturbed. The thief must have had some cognizance of its
location, and have kept some espionage over Randolph's movements--a
circumstance which added to the mystery and his disquiet. He placed a
description of his loss with the police authorities, but their only idea
of recovering it was by leaving that description with pawnbrokers and
second-hand dealers, a proceeding that Randolph instinctively felt was
in vain.

A singular but instinctive reluctance to inform Miss Avondale of his
loss kept him from calling upon her for the first few days. When he did,
she seemed concerned at the news, although far from participating in his
superstition or his suspicions.

"You still have the letter and photograph--whatever they may be
worth--for identification," she said dryly, "although Bobby cannot
remember about the letter. He thinks he went once with his father to a
photographer and had a picture taken, but he cannot remember seeing
it afterward." She was holding them in her hand, and Randolph almost
mechanically took them from her and put them in his pocket. He would
not, perhaps, have noticed his own brusqueness had she not looked a
little surprised, and, he thought, annoyed. "Are you quite sure you
won't lose them?" she said gently. "Perhaps I had better keep them for
you."

"I shall seal them up and put them in the bank sa