The mournful notes of a Gabriel's horn down at Twenty-second street betokened the approach of an auto, and interrupted the professor's eulogium of one who was manifestly a favorite pupil. "Quick!" I exclaimed; "saunter to the corner." A big touring car came up Charles street and stopped in front of the Eden home. A slender young chap stepped out and aided a young lady to descend. They stood for a minute on the curb beside the machine--undecided, as I figured out, whether the mummy would be safe there if left alone--and then both passed into the house. The three of us with one accord moved down the pavement. "Look on the rear seat, Dorland," I said, as the headquarters man ran to the auto. A great part of my confidence in my well-developed solution of the mystery would have gone to smash if the mummy had not been there. But Dorland gave a little cry of triumph. "It's here, all right," he called, "wrapped up in a rubber blanket." We tried to lift the bundle, but the petrified daughter of the Pharaohs was heavier than he had calculated. "Be careful, Mr. Dorland," the professor entreated; "don't smash her." "Now for the young man," said Dorland, jumping down to the curb. "No," said I. "I have a better plan. Can you run an auto?" Dorland could. "And have you a key to Goucher Hall?" I asked the professor. The professor had. "Then you two quietly take the mummy back to her box while I go in and question Miss Anstey." They got off without fuss, and when I had seen them turn the corner I rang the bell and asked for Miss Anstey. In placing my hat on the hallrack I moved Harding's cap to another peg and observed, as I had thought, that the "H" had parted company with the other gilt initials. I felt unfeignedly sorry for the girl when she came into the parlor a few minutes later. She had fine regular features, and with her limpid blue eyes was unquestionably pretty when the flush of youth and vivacity had full play. But that day there were dark circles under her eyes, her lids were suspiciously red and there was a pallid hue in her cheeks that was accentuated by the dark blue silk suit she wore. A novice at reading character could have told she had been spending hours in worry and tears. "You wished to see me?" she said, inquiringly, as she slowly advanced to where I had risen to meet her. "To return this," I answered. And I held out the maple leaf pin to her. She grew, if possible, more white and sought the help of the piano to support herself. "I--I--It is not----Where did you get it?" she said, with several gulps to keep down the sobs. "It was found in Goucher Hall near the mummy case." She stepped back uncertainly. Then she pulled herself together. "You are a detective?" I winced. "No," I said; "I am a friend of the College and of Mr. Harding's."