"

"With the plum preserves!" cried Lady Agatha.

"With the plum preserves," confirmed Miss Genevieve Pringle.

And Captain Abernethy and George the Greek bore into the cabin a third
oblong box, exactly similar in appearance to the box of Reginald
Maltravers and the box which contained the evidence against Logan
Black, and set it on the floor.

The three detectives stood and looked at the three boxes with an air of
great satisfaction.

"With this addition to our oblong boxes," said Wilton Barnstable,
"their number is now complete. Miss Henrietta Pringle, we will listen
to your story."

There was little to tell, and Miss Henrietta Pringle told it in a
breath. Having received no acknowledgment of the receipt of the plum
preserves from her aunt, an unusual oversight on her aunt's part, she
had journeyed to Newark with a vague fear that there might be something
wrong.

"Arrived in Newark," she said, "I learned that my aunt, with her two
white horses and her family carriage driven by Jefferson, the negro
coachmen, had suddenly left Newark, without giving any explanation to
anyone, or making her destination known.

"The proceeding was very strange; it was very unlike my aunt, and I was
frightened. Everyone who had seen her start testified that she was
laboring under a great nervous strain of some sort.

"I called at the freight depot and got the box of plum preserves which
I had shipped to her. To tell the truth, I feared for her reason. I
thought that if I could find her, and could show her the familiar plum
preserves, which she loved so well, they would be of material
assistance in influencing her to return to her home. So, setting out
to search for her in my Ford auto, I took the box of plum preserves
with me.

"I soon got upon her trail. The negro coachman, the family carriage
and the white horses had excited remark everywhere. Briefly, I traced
her here, and am happy to discover that my worst fears with regard to
her have proved false."

"Henrietta," said her aunt, reproachfully, "your fears do you very
little credit, or me either."

"Aunt Genevieve," said the niece, "pray, do not rebuke me."

"I was certain," said Wilton Barnstable, complacently, "that it would
develop that Miss Genevieve Pringle was herself being pursued. I was
confident of it, Cleggett. And now that I have cleared up for you the
mystery of Logan Black, the mystery of the box of Reginald Maltravers,
and the mystery of the box