"A package for you, Miss Dodge," announced Michael later in the
evening as Elaine, in her dainty evening gown, was still engaged
in going over the papers. He carried it in his hands rather
gingerly.
"Mr. Kennedy sent it, ma'am. He says it contains clues and will
you please put it in the new safe for him."
Elaine took the package eagerly and examined it. Then she pulled
open the heavy door of the safe.
"It must be getting cold out, Michael," she remarked. "This
package is as cold as ice."
"It is, ma'am," answered Michael, deferentially with a sidelong
glance that did not prevent his watching her intently.
She closed the safe and, with a glance at her watch, set the time
lock and went upstairs to her room.
No sooner had Elaine disappeared than Michael appeared again, cat-
like, through the curtains from the drawing room, and, after a
glance about the dimly lighted library, discovering that the coast
was clear, motioned to a figure hiding behind the portieres.
A moment, and Clutching Hand himself came out.
He moved over to the safe and looked it over. Then he put out his
hand and touched it.
"Good, Michael," he exclaimed with satisfaction.
"Listen!" cautioned Michael.
Someone was coming and they hastily slunk behind the protecting
portieres. It was Marie, Elaine's maid.
She turned up the lights and went over to the desk for a book for
which Elaine had evidently sent her.
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