The police are practical, and my tale was an odd one. I found it hard, therefore, to impress them with its importance, especially as in trying to save Miss Calhoun I was necessarily more or less incoherent. I did succeed, however, in awakening interest at last, and, a man being assigned me, I led the way to Madame’s door. But here a surprise awaited me. The doorplate, which had so attracted my attention, was gone, and in a few minutes we found that she had departed also, leaving no trace behind her. This looked ominous, and with little delay we hastened to the office of Dr. Merriam. Knocking at the usual door brought no response, but when we tried the further one, by which his patients usually passed out, we found ourselves confronted by the gentleman we sought. His face was calm and smiling, and though he made haste to tell us that we had come out of hours, he politely asked us in and inquired what he could do for us. Not understanding how he could have forgotten me so soon, I looked at him inquiringly, at which his face lighted up, and he apologetically said: “I remember you now. You were here this morning consulting me about a friend who is afflicted with a peculiar complaint. Have you anything further to state or ask in regard to it. I have just five minutes to spare.” “Hear this gentleman first,” said I, pointing to the officer who accompanied me. The doctor calmly bowed, and waited with the greatest self-possession for him to state his case. The officer did so abruptly. “There is a box in your ante-room which I feel it my duty to examine. I am Detective Hopkins, of the city police.” The doctor, with a gentleness which seemed native rather than assumed, quietly replied: “I am very sorry, but you are an hour too late.” And, throwing open the door of communication between the two rooms, he pointed to the table. _The box was gone_! V. DOCTOR MERRIAM. This second disappointment was more than I could endure. Turning upon the doctor with undisguised passion, I hotly asked: “Who has taken it? Describe the person at once. Tell what you know about the box, I did not finish the threat; but my looks must have been very fierce, for he edged off a bit, and cast a curious glance at the officer before he answered: “You have, then, no ailing friend? Well, well; I expended some very good advice upon you. But you paid me, and so we are even.” “The box!” I urged; “the box! Don’t waste words, for a man’s life is at stake.” His surprise was marvelously assumed or very real. “You are talking somewhat wildly, are you not?” he ventured, with a bland air. “A man’s life? I cannot believe that.” “But you don’t answer me,” I urged. He smiled; he evidently thought me out of my mind.