full in the _Missionary Journal and Cannibal's Friend_,
that excellent periodical.'

'You do me honor,' replied Mr. Hartless, a flush of pride suffusing his
face; then, going to his desk, he wrote in bold characters, at the top
of a sheet of paper--

'_Donations in aid of the Society for Supplying Indigent and
Naked Savages in Hindustan with Flannel Shirts._

--Paul Hartless. $100.00'

This document he handed to the parson, with a look which clearly said
'What do you think of that?' and then, producing his pocket-book, took
from thence a bank-note for one hundred dollars, which he presented to
the reverend gentleman, who received the donation with many thanks on
behalf of the 'Society for Supplying, &c.' and then left.

All this time the Dead Man lay in his box, impatiently awaiting the
arrival of evening, when the store would be closed, and an opportunity
afforded him to emerge from the narrow prison in which he was confined.
Once, he came very near being discovered; for a person chanced to enter
the warehouse accompanied by a dog, and the animal began smelling around
the box in a manner that excited some surprise and remark on the part of
those who observed it. The dog's acute powers of smell detected the
presence of some person in the box: fortunately, however, for the Dead
Man, the owner of the four-legged inquisitor, having transacted his
business, called the animal away, and left the store.

Mr. Hartless, in the course of some further desultory conversation with
Mr. Jameson, casually remarked--

'By the way, my policy of insurance expired yesterday, and I meant to
have it renewed today; however, tomorrow will answer just as well. But I
must not delay the matter, for this building is crammed from cellar to
roof with valuable goods, and were it burnt down tonight, or before I
renew my insurance, I should be a beggar!'

The Dead Man heard this, and grinned with satisfaction. The day wore
slowly away, and at last the welcome evening came; the hum of business
gradually ceased, and finally the last person belonging to the
warehouse, who remained, took his departure, having closed the shutters
and locked the door; then a profound silence reigned throughout the
building.

'Now I may venture to get out of this accursed box,' thought the escaped
convict:--and he tried to force off the cover, but to his disappointment
and alarm, he found that it resisted all his efforts. It had been too
tightly nail