musty with age, the sight of which thrilled him with hope. He
quickly drew it forth, and a single glance at its title assured him
it was indeed the object of his search. With a low cry of joy, he
locked and replaced the metallic box, and, opening the ancient
document, he eagerly scanned its contents, an expression of intense
satisfaction overspreading his features.

He was still perusing the paper when he heard footsteps approaching
the library through the long corridor, followed an instant later by a
knock. Depositing the precious document safely within an inside
pocket, he swung the doors of the safe together, turning the handle
so as to lock it securely, and, crossing the library, unlocked and
opened the door.

The butler was standing there, and, handing Scott a card, said,
briefly,

"A gentleman on private business; must see Mr. Mainwaring or his
secretary at once."

Scott glanced at the card: it bore the name of "J. Henry Carruthers,"
with a London address, and underneath had been hastily pencilled
the word "Important."

"Show the gentleman up," he said. The butler bowed and was gone,
and in an incredibly short time, while yet Scott's pulse throbbed
wildly from his recent discovery, the stranger entered the room.

He was a little above the average height, with a somewhat commanding
presence, rather pale face, dark moustache, and black curling hair.