u saw nothing suspicious about the transaction, and I confess that I
did not realize its significance at the time. Naturally the man to whom
he gave the box will make for Brussels at once, since it was to that
point that Seltz intended going. No doubt he was operating in the
interests of someone else--some third person to whom the box is of great
value, and who has agreed to pay a large sum for it on delivery. You saw
the fellow who bought the powder hand Seltz money--how much you could
not tell. It may be that Seltz was obliged to divide the reward with his
friend, and that the latter has already turned over to Seltz his share
in advance. Of that we cannot be certain, nor is it material. Seltz is
undoubtedly guilty of the murder of the man Noel, but to stay here and
arrest him now would only defeat the object we have in view. After the
box has been recovered, we can return and deal with Seltz. You may be
quite sure he will not dare to run away, for fear that by so doing he
would admit his guilt."

Dufrenne looked at the detective in admiration. "You reason well,
monsieur," he remarked. "But why should they be taking the box to
Brussels?"

"That I cannot tell you, of course, except that, as I said before, the
plot to steal it inevitably originated there. We shall learn more
to-morrow, after we have arrived in the city. The next thing to be done
is to find our man."

They arrived at Liverpool Street station just in time to swing aboard
the train for Harwich as it was pulling out. There were not many
passengers--they found themselves in a smoking-compartment quite to
themselves.

"There is no use in attempting to do anything until we reach Harwich,"
the detective remarked, pulling his hat over his eyes. He leaned back
and began to speculate disgustedly upon the events of the day. Married
at noon--torn from his wife within an hour--in London at night--a
murder--and now a wild chase to Brussels after a snuff box. It seemed
almost ludicrous. He smiled grimly. He had not expected to spend in
quite this way the first twelve hours of his honeymoon.

CHAPTER VII

On the morning of her first day at Dr. Hartmann's sanatorium, Grace
Duvall rose early, and dressed herself for a walk. She was determined,
if possible, to communicate the results of her adventure the night
before to the French police in Brussels, and realizing that to do so by
the only means in her power, namely, the young man who drove the
delivery wago