turning with a celerity that
belied her words, she fled into the hall, shutting the door violently
behind her.

Astonished at the completeness of my victory, I spent the first moments
of triumph in trying to lift the lid of the box. But it was securely
locked. I was just debating whether I could now venture to return to my
seat, when the hall door reopened and a gentleman entered.

He was short, sturdy and had a bristling black mustache. I needed to
look at him but once to be certain he was interested both in the box and
me, and, while I gave no evidence of my discovery, I prepared myself
for an adventure of a much more serious nature than that which had just
occupied me.

Modeling my behavior upon that of the young girl whose place I had
usurped, I placed my elbow on the box and looked out of the window. As
I did so I heard a shuffling in the adjoining room, and knew that in
another moment the doctor would again appear at the door to announce
that he was ready for another patient. How could I evade the summons?
The man behind me was a determined one. He was there for the purpose
of opening the box, and would not be likely to leave the room while I
remained in it. How, then, could I comply with the requirements of the
situation and yet prevent this new-comer from lifting the lid in my
absence? I knew of but one way--a way which had suggested itself to
me during the long watches of the previous night, and which I had come
prepared to carry out.

Taking advantage of my proximity to the box, I inserted in the keyhole a
small morsel of wax which for some minutes past I had been warming in
my hand. This done, I laid my hat down on the lid, noting with great
exactness as I did so just where its rim lay in reference to the various
squares and scrolls with which the top was ornamented. By this means I
felt that I might know if the hat were moved in my absence. The doctor
having showed himself by this time, I followed him into his office with
a calmness born of the most complete confidence in the strategy I had
employed.

Dr. Merriam, whom I have purposely refrained from describing until now,
was a tall, well-made man, with a bald head and a pleasant eye, but
careless in his attire and bearing. As I met that eye and responded to
his good-natured greeting, I inwardly decided that his interest in the
box was much less than his guardianship of it would seem to betoken.
And when I addressed him and entered upon the subject of