e other. Rust!--there was the
mystery. The same rust which had prevented the mechanism from acting at
once was causing the screeching now. The uncanny sounds were caused by
nothing more nor less than the want of a drop or two of oil. Such an
explanation would not have satisfied Pugh, it satisfied me.

Picking up the box, I placed it to my ear.

"I wonder how long this little performance is going to continue. And what
is going to happen when it is good enough to cease? I hope"--an
uncomfortable thought occurred to me--"I hope Pugh hasn't picked up some
pleasant little novelty in the way of an infernal machine. It would be a
first-rate joke if he and I had been endeavoring to solve the puzzle of
how to set it going."

I don't mind owning that as this reflection crossed my mind I replaced
Pugh's puzzle on the dressing-table. The idea did not commend itself to me
at all. The box evidently contained some curious mechanism. It might be
more curious than comfortable. Possibly some agreeable little device in
clockwork. The tick, tick, tick suggested clockwork which had been planned
to go a certain time, and then--then, for all I knew, ignite an explosive,
and--blow up. It would be a charming solution to the puzzle if it were to
explode while I stood there, in my nightshirt, looking on. It is true that
the box weighed very little. Probably, as I have said, the whole affair
would not have turned the scale at a couple of ounces. But then its very
lightness might have been part of the ingenious inventor's little game.
There are explosives with which one can work a very satisfactory amount of
damage with considerably less than a couple of ounces.

While I was hesitating--I own it!--whether I had not better immerse Pugh's
puzzle in a can of water, or throw it out of the window, or call down Bob
with a request to at once remove it to his apartment, both the tick, tick,
tick, and the screeching ceased, and all within the box was still. If it
_was_ going to explode, it was now or never. Instinctively I moved in the
direction of the door.

I waited with a certain sense of anxiety. I waited in vain. Nothing
happened, not even a renewal of the sound.

"I wish Pugh had kept his precious puzzle at home. This sort of thing
tries one's nerves."

When I thought that I perceived that nothing seemed likely to happen, I
returned to the neighborhood of the table. I looked at the box askance. I
took it up gingerly. Something might go off at a