outer room took him curiously
to the door. They were subdued voices. He listened hard, and his heart
pumped faster. One of them was Wallie's voice; the other was Mary
Josephine's.

He was amused with himself at the extreme care with which he proceeded
to dress. It was an entirely new sensation. Wallie had provided him
with the necessaries for a cold sponge and in some mysterious interim
since their arrival had brushed and pressed the most important of
Conniston's things. With the Englishman's wardrobe he had brought up
from barracks a small chest which was still locked. Until this morning
Keith had not noticed it. It was less than half as large as a steamer
trunk and had the appearance of being intended as a strong box rather
than a traveling receptacle. It was ribbed by four heavy bands of
copper, and the corners and edges were reinforced with the same metal.
The lock itself seemed to be impregnable to one without a key.
Conniston's name was heavily engraved on a copper tablet just above the
lock.

Keith regarded the chest with swiftly growing speculation. It was not a
thing one would ordinarily possess. It was an object which, on the face
of it, was intended to be inviolate except to its master key, a holder
of treasure, a guardian of mystery and of precious secrets. In the
little cabin up on the Barren Conniston had said rather indifferently,
"You may find something among my things down there that will help you
out." The words flashed back to Keith. Had the Englishman, in that
casual and uncommunicative way of his, referred to the contents of this
chest? Was it not possible that it held for him a solution to the
mystery that was facing him in the presence of Mary Josephine? A sense
of conviction began to possess him. He examined the lock more closely
and found that with proper tools it could be broken.

He finished dressing and completed his toilet by brushing his beard. On
account of Mary Josephine he found himself regarding this hirsute
tragedy with a growing feeling of disgust, in spite of the fact that it
gave him an appearance rather distinguished and military. He wanted it
off. Its chief crime was that it made him look older. Besides, it was
inclined to be reddish. And it must tickle and prick like the deuce
when--

He brought himself suddenly to salute with an appreciative grin.
"You're there, and you've got to stick," he chuckled. After all, he was
a likable-looking chap, even with that handicap. He was