ork. Most of my mail is sorted at my bankers, and only
important letters forwarded. There may be a social note occasionally.
Do you read and write English as well as you speak it?"

"Oh, yes."

Laura invited Fitzgerald to the tennis court.

"In these shoes?" he protested.

"They will not matter; it is a cement court."

"But I shan't look the game. Tennis without flannels is like duck
without apples."

"Bother! We'll play till the mason comes up. And mind your game.
I've been runner-up in a dozen tournaments."

And he soon found that she had not overrated her skill. She served
strongly, volleyed beautifully, and darted across the court with a
fleetness and a surety both delightful to observe. So interested were
they in the battle that they forgot all about the mason, till the
butler came out, and announced that the desecration had begun.

In fact the broad marble top was on the floor, and the room full of
impalpable dust. The admiral and the secretary were gravely stacking
the bricks, one by one, as they came out.

"Found anything?" asked the girl breathlessly.

"Not yet; but Mr. Donovan here has just discovered a hollow space above
the mantel line."

The admiral sneezed.

Mr. Donovan, in his usual free and happy way, drew out two bricks, and
dropped them on the polished floor.

"There's your holler, sir," he said, dusting his hands.

Unbidden, Breitmann pushed his hand into the cavity. His arm went down
to the elbow, and he was forced to stand on tiptoe. He was pale when
he withdrew his arm, but in his hand was a square metal case, about the
size and shape of a cigar box.

"By cracky! What's the matter, Mr. Breitmann?" The admiral stepped
forward solicitously.

Breitmann swayed, and fell against the side of the fireplace. "It is
nothing; lost my balance for a moment. Will you open it, sir?"

"Lost his balance?" muttered Fitzgerald. "He looks groggy. Why?"

This was not a time for speculation. All rushed after the admiral, who
laid the case on his desk, and took out his keys. None of them would
turn in the ancient lock. With an impatient gesture, which escaped the
others, the secretary seized Mr. Donovan's hammer, inserted the claw
between the lock and the catch, and gave a powerful wrench. The lid
fell back, crooked and scarred.

The admiral put on his Mandarin spectacles. With his hands behind his
back, he bent and critically examined the contents. Then, very
carefully, he