steps. The professor was whistling. He recognized the air, "Call Me Up Some Rainy Afternoon." It was a lively air and the professor rendered it ably but quite softly.
The door locked, he was back staring at the crate that concealed his dead self. He was helpless before it. The fleshly tenement of a great king who had later flashed upon the world as Napoleon I, and was now Bunker Bean! Could he bear to look? He trembled and knew himself weak. Yet it would be done, some time.
There was a vigorous knock at the door. All was discovered!
The crime of assault at the dark corner had been traced to his door. Balthasar had betrayed him. The Egyptian authorities had discovered their loss. The thing was there. He was caught red-handed.
He reached the door and cautiously opened it an inch. Cassidy stood there, armed with a hatchet. They would use violence!
"Hatchet!" said Cassidy, genially extending the weapon. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The aroma of beer stole into the room.
"F'r brox brickybac!" insinuated Cassidy.
"Thanks!" said Bean, accepting the tool.
"We kem frum th' sem county, Mayo, him an' me," volunteered Cassidy. "G'night!"
Once more Bean faced the crate. It must be done at once. Discovery was too probable. Gingerly he forced the blade under one of the
