ssession at this moment than I think you have,
there is no power on earth can keep you from landing in state-prison."

The unfortunate victim of Holmes's adventure fairly gasped in his combined
rage and fright. Twice he attempted to speak, but only inarticulate sounds
issued from his lips.

"You are, of course, very much disturbed at the moment," Holmes went on,
"and I am really very sorry if anything I have done has disarranged any
honorable enterprise in which you have embarked. I don't wish to hurry you
into a snap decision, which you may repent later, only either the police or
I must have that package within an hour. It is for you to say which of us is
to get it. Suppose we run over to the Powhatan and discuss the matter calmly
over a bottle of Glengarry? Possibly I can convince you that it will be for
your own good to do precisely as I tell you and very much to your
disadvantage to do otherwise."

Rand, stupefied by this sudden intrusion upon his secret by an utter
stranger, lost what little fight there was left in him, and at least seemed
to assent to Holmes's proposition. The latter linked arms with him, and in a
few minutes we walked into the famous hostelry just as if we were three
friends, bent only upon having a pleasant chat over a cafe table.

"What'll you have, Mr. Rand?" asked Holmes, suavely. "I'm elected for the
Glengarry special, with a little carbonic on the side."

"Same," said Rand, laconically.

"Sandwich with it?" asked Holmes. "You'd better."

"Oh, I can't eat anything," began Rand. "I--"

"Bring us some sandwiches, waiter," said Holmes. "Two Glengarry special,
a syphon of carbonic, and--Jenkins, what's yours?"

The calmness and the cheek of the fellow!

"I'm not in on this at all," I retorted, angered by Holmes's use of my name.
"And I want Mr. Rand to understand--"

"Oh, tutt!" ejaculated Holmes. "_He_ knows that. Mr. Rand, my friend Jenkins
has no connection with this enterprise of mine, and he's done his level best
to dissuade me from holding you up so summarily. All he's along for is to
write the thing up for--"

"The newspapers?" cried Rand, now thoroughly frightened.

"No," laughed Holmes. "Nothing so useful--the magazines."

Holmes winked at me as he spoke, and I gathered that there was method in his
apparent madness.

"That's one of the points you want to consider, though, Mr. Rand," he said,
leaning upon the table with his elbows. "Think of the newspapers to-morrow
morn