your private papers there, as well as the firm's?"

"Oh, yes; Philip has retained one section and I the other." Kent walked
over and threw open the massive door which he had unlocked on entering
the office and left ajar. "Would you like to see the arrangements of the
compartments?"

Without answering Helen crossed the room and stood by his side.

"Which is Philip's section?" she asked.

"This," and Kent touched the side of the safe.

Helen turned around and inspected the office; the outer door through
which she had entered was closed, as were also the private door leading
directly into the outside corridor, and the one opening into the
closet. Convinced that they were really alone, she took from her leather
hand-bag a white envelope and handed it to Kent.

"Please put this in Philip's compartment," she said, and as he
hesitated, she added pleadingly, "Please do it, Harry, and ask no
questions."

Kent looked at her wonderingly; the girl was obviously laboring under
intense excitement of some sort, which might at any moment break into
hysteria. Bottling up his curiosity, he stooped down in front of the
safe.

"Certainly I will put the envelope away for you," he agreed cheerily.
"Wait, though, I must find if Philip left the key of the compartment on
his bunch." He took from his pocket the keys he had found so useful
the night before, and selected one that resembled the key to his own
compartment, and inserted it in the lock. To his surprise he discovered
the compartment was already unlocked. Without comment he pulled open the
inside drawer and started to lay the white envelope on top of the papers
already there, when he hesitated.

"The envelope is unaddressed, Helen," he remarked, extending it toward
her. She waved it back.

"It is sealed with red wax," she stated. "That is all that is necessary
for identification."

Kent turned over the envelope--the flap was held down securely with a
large red seal which bore the one letter "B." He dropped the envelope
inside the drawer, locked the compartment, and closed the door of the
safe.

"Let us talk," he suggested and led the way back to their chairs.
"Helen," he began, after she was seated. "There is nothing I will not
do for your sister Barbara," his manner grew earnest. "I--" he flushed;
baring his feelings to another, no matter how sympathetic that other
was, was foreign to his reserved nature. "I love her beyond words to
express. I tell you this to--to--gain