fancied that he wept.

Anthony sneered and smiled.

CHAPTER XIII

In the Box

Now, for a little, let us watch the movements of the intelligent
servant, Wilkins.

Getting the trunk to the street was no trouble at all. The girl weighed,
perhaps, one hundred and twenty pounds, and the trunk itself another
fifteen or twenty, and handling that amount of weight was a mere joke to
Wilkins. Therefore, he stood in the side street beside the Lasande,
having carefully deposited his burden, and looked about for a taxi--and
presently one of these bandit vehicles rolled up to the curb and the
hard-faced little man behind the wheel barked:

"Taxicab?"

"Yes," said Wilkins. "I wish----"

"Stick the box up front!" snapped the driver. "I kin give you a hand."

"I'm taking the box in back with me," said Wilkins.

"Nothing doing!" said the driver. "What d'ye think that paint's made
of--steel?"

It was entirely possible that Mary was stifling by this time. Wilkins
used his wits as he fumbled in his pockets and asked:

"Your cab, old chap?"

"Company's!"

"Put this five-dollar bill into your pocket and give me a hand setting
the box in the back," said Wilkins. "It's packed with delicate stuff,
and the master instructed me particular to keep a hand on it."

So, while the hard-faced one smiled brightly and, the bill in his
pocket, reflected that a murder must have been committed but that it was
none of his business in any case, Anthony's wardrobe trunk was stood
erect and the taxicab rolled off swiftly, headed for the palatial home
of Theodore Dalton.

A block or two and, in the most uninterested way, Wilkins managed to
open the lid for an inch or more, and in the space appeared a little
pink nose and, presently, as the nose withdrew, a brilliant blue eye.

"Can you open it a little more?" asked Mary.

Wilkins opened it a little more.

"I trust you're quite comfortable, miss?" he asked politely.

"Lovely!" said Mary. "Did any one--seem to notice when we left?"

"Not a soul, miss."

Mary, cramped though she might be, sighed vast relief.

"Tell Mr. Fry, when you get back, that I'll send for the things I left
behind," she said softly.

"Yes, miss."

"And Wilkins, when you get to the house," said Mary, "be absolutely sure
that you take me to Felice's room!"

"I understand," purred Wilkins, just above the rumble of traffic.

Here Mary's whole face almost appeared.

"I want you to be very sure about that