"We have not. We took the Good Samaritan's privilege and ransacked your belongings--Miss Margery and I--thinking that there might be relatives or friends who should be notified." "And you found nothing?" queried the sick man, a cold fear gripping at his heart. "Absolutely nothing to tell us who you were; no cards, letters, or memoranda of any kind. The conclusion was obvious: some one had taken advantage of your illness on the train and had picked your pockets." Griswold moistened his lips and swallowed hard. "There were two suit-cases: were they lost?" "No; they are here." "And you found nothing in them?" "Nothing but clothing and your toilet tools, a pistol, and a typewritten book manuscript bearing no signature." Griswold turned his face away and shut his eyes. Once more his stake in the game of life was gone. "There was another package of--of papers in one of the grips," he said, faintly; "quite a large package wrapped in brown paper." "Valuables?" queried the doctor, sympathetically curious. "Y-yes; rather valuable." "We found nothing but the manuscript. Could any one else make use of the papers you speak of?" Griswold was too feeble to prevaricate successfully. "There was money in the package," he said, leaving the physician to infer what he pleased. "Ah; then you were robbed. It's a pity we didn't know it at the time. It is pretty late to begin looking for the thief now, I'm afraid." "Quite too late," said Griswold monotonously. The doctor rose to go. "Don't let the material loss depress you, Mr. Griswold," he said, with encouraging kindliness. "The one loss that couldn't have been retrieved is a danger past for you now, I'm glad to say. Be cheerful and patient, and we'll soon have you a sound man again. You have a magnificent constitution and fine recuperative powers; otherwise we should have buried you within a week of your arrival." It was not until after the doctor had gone that Griswold was able to face the new misfortune with anything like a sober measure of equanimity. Imaginative to the degree which facilely transforms the suppositional into the real, he was still singularly free from superstition. Nevertheless, all the legends clustering about the proverbial slipperiness of ill-gotten gains paraded themselves insistently. It was only by the supremest effort of will that he could push them aside and address himself to the practical matter of getting well. That was the first thing to be considered; with or without money, he must relieve the Griersons of their self-assumed burden at the earliest possible moment.