"Have a care!" warned the voice.

The chair toppled and overturned. From it fell, with a light shock,
the strange valise, which, striking the floor, flew open, disclosing
a small cardboard cabinet. Across the front of the cabinet was a
strip of white paper labeled in handwriting, each letter being
individual, with what looked to the young man like the word "MERCY."
He stooped to replace the bag.

"Do not touch it," ordered the voice peremptorily.

Average Jones straightened up to face the door again.

"I will apologize for my clumsiness," he said slowly, "when you
explain why you have tried to trick me."

There was a pause. Then:

"Presently," said the voice. "Meantime, after what you have
accidentally seen, you will perhaps appreciate that the employment
is not without its peril!"

Average Jones stared from the door to the floored cabinet and back
again in stupefaction.

"Perhaps I'm stupid," he said, "but a misshapen valise containing a
cabinet with a girl's name on it doesn't seem calculated to scare an
able-bodied man to death. It isn't full of dynamite, is it?"