ship, had not been mere idle falsehoods.

To-night, for the first time since his dream had been shattered, the
photograph left him cold and unfeeling. Something had happened, he
hardly knew what--something he hardly dared confess to himself, with
Dorothy only in his vision. The lifeless picture's day was gone at
last.

He tossed it back in the drawer with a gesture of finality, drew forth
a number of collars and ties, then went to a closet, opened the door
and studied his two suit-cases thoughtfully. He knew not which to
take. One was an ordinary, russet-leather case; the other was a
thin-steel box, veneered with leather, but of special construction, on
a plan which Garrison himself had invented. Indeed, the thing was a
trap, ingeniously contrived when the Biddle robbery had baffled far
older men than himself, and had then been solved by a trick.

On the whole, he decided he would take this case along. It had brought
him luck on the former occasion, and the present was, perhaps, a
criminal case. He lifted it out, blew off some dust, and laid it,
open, on the bed.

To all appearances the thing was innocent enough. On the under side of
the cover was a folding flap, fastened with a string and a button.
Unremembered by Garrison, Ailsa's last letter still reposed in the
pocket, its romance laid forever in the lavender of rapidly fading
memories.

Not only was the case provided with a thin false bottom, concealing its
mechanism, but between the cover and the body proper, on either side,
were wing-like pieces of leather, to judge from their looks, that
seemed to possess no function more important than the ordinary canvas
strips not infrequently employed on a trunk to restrain the cover from
falling far backward when opened. But encased in these wings were
connections to powerful springs that, upon being set and suddenly
released, would snap down the cover like the hammer of a gun and catch,
as in the jaws of a trap, any meddling hands that might have been
placed inside the case by a thief, at the same time ringing a bell. To
set it was a matter of the utmost simplicity, while to spring it one
had barely to go at the contents of the case and touch the trigger
lightly.

The springs were left unset, as Garrison tossed in the trifles he
should need. Then he changed his clothes, turned off the gas, and was
presently out once more in the open of the street, walking to the Grand
Central Station, near at hand.

Th