upsetting Officer Brownson into the gutter as he rushed
past him. The clerk at the pier of the Cis-Atlantic Company answered
that the RUSSIA had sailed a little before seven, and must be in the
lower bay by this time. Impossible to reach her, as the morning was
densely foggy and she carried no wireless apparatus. An indescribable
expression came into the man Grenelli's face as he realized what this
new turn of the kaleidoscope meant. But Indiman and I involuntarily
looked the other way.

Officer Smith had returned from his mission, and apparently his
superior was not pleased with its outcome.

"Block on the Elevated!" he exclaimed, disgustedly. "Always some
excuse. Then you missed the Russia?"

"She had just been pulled into the stream when I reached the pier."

"Where's the package?"

"I brought it back with me."

Now, to be honest, I jumped at that. It was possible that the booby had
the box under his coat, and it was now ten minutes of eight. But
Brownson, who didn't know, went on imperturbably. "You should have
handed it over to the representative of the express company. What did
you do with it?"

"It's at the stable where Grenelli lived," explained Officer Smith. "I
locked it up in a bureau drawer, and here's the key."

Brownson looked at his subordinate patronizingly. "You have much to
learn, young man--" he began. "Much to learn. Hallo! Something's blown
up down the block."

Well, to sum up briefly, there was no stable left. Fortunately no one
had been injured by the explosion, and the outside damage was confined
to a few broken windows. We all went poking about in the ruins looking
for a clew to the mystery.

"Here's that box, Brownson," said Indiman, suddenly. "The cover is
somewhat torn, but you can make out the address easily enough. It's the
lost property, certainly, and you've got the thief, too." He handed the
officer the package containing the alarm-clock.

"That I have," answered the gratified Brownson. "Keep close eye on
Grenelli, Officer Smith, and I may be able to overlook your
shortcomings of this morning. I say, Mr. Indiman, but there's a regular
miracle in this 'ere business. Now, how do you suppose this blessed
little twopenny box ever come through an earthquake like that there."

"I'll never tell you," said Indiman.

We had been dining with Ellison, the deferred settlement of that little
account which we had been owing him since August. However, we made it
up, interest and all.