the night before. Half-past seven it was,
then, for all that the hour again struck me as being rather advanced
for a cloudy morning in mid-November. And evidently Grenelli thought so
too. He could hardly suppress the exclamation that rose to his lips as
he glanced at the dial.

Ten minutes passed, and then Grenelli spoke.

"If I tell you what you want to know," he said, "am I to be allowed to
leave the house at once?"

"Yes."

"And I am to be safe from arrest? At least, sufficient time will be
given--"

"Bah!" interrupted Indiman, scornfully. "Come and go as you will. I can
break you like a rotten stick whenever it pleases me."

Grenelli drew in his breath with a vicious hiss. "At five minutes to
eight I will tell you," he said, in a loud, overbearing voice.

"Very good," answered Indiman, placidly.

But the fellow's courage deserted him at the pinch, in accordance with
Indiman's prediction. He sat there dry-lipped and wet-browed, a
half-burned cigarette in his yellow-stained fingers, and his eyes fixed
immovably on Indiman's watch. It was barely a quarter to the hour when
he gave in. He wanted to cut the corner as closely as he could, but his
nerve was gone. "I will tell you--" he began.

He stopped as abruptly as he had started. Suddenly the ticking of the
clock-work had ceased, and it was succeeded by a pause infinitesimally
brief and withal infinitely extended. Grenelli half rose from his
chair, his hands beating backward at the air. Then came a curious
premonitory whir of the hidden mechanism. The metallic rattle of the
gong was magnified in my ears to the dimensions of a roll of thunder;
then I saw that Indiman had torn the wrappings from the box and had
opened it. There was no mistaking the object that lay within--a common
American alarm-clock. Grenelli looked at it, wide-eyed, then he rolled
off his chair in some sort of a fit, and Indiman and I were left to
stare each other out of countenance.

"Plain enough, I think," said Indiman. "There WAS another box
containing the infernal machine, but Grenelli made up the dummy so
successfully as to deceive even himself. He got the two mixed up, and
this, the original and harmless package, was the one that should have
reached the Russia if Ben Day hadn't stopped to buy a red apple. Of
course, it was the ticking of the clock escapement that misled him--and
me.

"The alarm mechanism must have been wound up and set just before the
clock left Redfield & Compan