some of this stuff in the hands of the professional fences."

It was still early in the evening when we returned to the museum
and let ourselves in with the key that Dr. Lith had loaned
Kennedy. He had been anxious to join us in the watch, but Craig
had diplomatically declined, a circumstance that puzzled me and
set me thinking that perhaps he suspected the curator himself.

We posted ourselves in an angle where we could not possibly be
seen even if the full force of the electrolier were switched on.
Hour after hour we waited. But nothing happened. There were
strange and weird noises in plenty, not calculated to reassure
one, but Craig was always ready with an explanation.

It was in the forenoon of the day after our long and unfruitful
vigil in the art-gallery that Dr. Lith himself appeared at our
apartment in a great state of perturbation.

"Miss White has disappeared," he gasped, in answer to Craig's
hurried question. "When I opened the museum, she was not there as
she is usually. Instead, I found this note."

He laid the following hastily written message on the table:

Do not try to follow me. It is the green curse that has
pursued me from Paris. I cannot escape it, but I may prevent
it from affecting others.

LUCILLE WHITE.