inging from the beams overhead that he might see
to collect his belongings, and now he held the black box well in the
rays of the lamplight, while he fingered at the clasp that fastened its
lid.

The lifted cover revealed two compartments within the box. In one was
a mechanism which resembled the works of a small clock. There also was
a little battery of two dry cells. A wire ran from the clockwork to
one of the poles of the battery, and from the other pole through the
partition into the other compartment, a second wire returning directly
to the clockwork.

Whatever lay within the second compartment was not visible, for a cover
lay over it and appeared to be sealed in place by asphaltum. In the
bottom of the box, beside the clockwork, lay a key, and this Paulvitch
now withdrew and fitted to the winding stem.

Gently he turned the key, muffling the noise of the winding operation
by throwing a couple of articles of clothing over the box. All the
time he listened intently for any sound which might indicate that the
sailor or another were approaching his cabin; but none came to
interrupt his work.

When the winding was completed the Russian set a pointer upon a small
dial at the side of the clockwork, then he replaced the cover upon the
black box, and returned the entire machine to its hiding-place in the
table.

A sinister smile curled the man's bearded lips as he gathered up his
valuables, blew out the lamp, and stepped from his cabin to the side of
the waiting sailor.

"Here are my things," said the Russian; "now let me go."

"I'll first take a look in your pockets," replied the sailor. "You
might have overlooked some trifling thing that won't be of no use to
you in the jungle, but that'll come in mighty handy to a poor sailorman
in London. Ah! just as I feared," he ejaculated an instant later as he
withdrew a roll of bank-notes from Paulvitch's inside coat pocket.

The Russian scowled, muttering an imprecation; but nothing could be
gained by argument, and so he did his best to reconcile himself to his
loss in the knowledge that the sailor would never reach London to enjoy
the fruits of his thievery.

It was with difficulty that Paulvitch restrained a consuming desire to
taunt the man with a suggestion of the fate that would presently
overtake him and the other members of the Kincaid's company; but
fearing to arouse the fellow's suspicions, he crossed the deck and
lowered himself in silence into his