"Sorry to bother you, Mr. Indiman, but I want that man with you. Charged with larceny of a package consigned to Oceanic Express Company. I've been waiting for him all night." "By all means, officer," and the three of us got out. "I managed it pretty well, I think," continued Brownson. "Searched every nook and corner of the stable where Grenelli and Day lived, and finally I found the parcel. It answered precisely to the description, and I sent it down by Officer Smith to the RUSSIA not more than an hour ago." "To the RUSSIA! Why she sailed yesterday afternoon at four o'clock." "Slight accident to her low-pressure cylinder," explained Brownson. "She was delayed for several hours and was to sail early this morning. I beg your pardon--why, excuse me, Mr. Indiman--" There was a public telephone in the corner shop, and Indiman dashed into the booth, upsetting Officer Brownson into the gutter as he rushed past him. The clerk at the pier of the Cis-Atlantic Company answered that the RUSSIA had sailed a little before seven, and must be in the lower bay by this time. Impossible to reach her, as the morning was densely foggy and she carried no wireless apparatus. An indescribable expression came into the man Grenelli's face as he realized what this new turn of the kaleidoscope meant. But Indiman and I involuntarily looked the other way. Officer Smith had returned from his mission, and apparently his superior was not pleased with its outcome. "Block on the Elevated!" he exclaimed, disgustedly. "Always some excuse. Then you missed the Russia?" "She had just been pulled into the stream when I reached the pier." "Where's the package?" "I brought it back with me." Now, to be honest, I jumped at that. It was possible that the booby had the box under his coat, and it was now ten minutes of eight. But Brownson, who didn't know, went on imperturbably. "You should have handed it over to the representative of the express company. What did you do with it?" "It's at the stable where Grenelli lived," explained Officer Smith. "I locked it up in a bureau drawer, and here's the key." Brownson looked at his subordinate patronizingly. "You have much to learn, young man--" he began. "Much to learn. Hallo! Something's blown up down the block." Well, to sum up briefly, there was no stable left. Fortunately no one had been injured by the explosion, and the outside damage was confined to a few broken windows. We all went poking about in the ruins looking for a clew to the mystery. "Here's that box, Brownson," said Indiman, suddenly. "The cover is somewhat torn, but you can make out the address easily enough. It's the lost property, certainly, and you've got the thief, too." He handed the officer the package containing the alarm-clock.