Picture Play Magazine (Oct-Nov 1915)

PICTURE-PLAY WEEKLY 13 Paris he was told that a young and beautiful woman had been waiting for hours in his anteroom to see him. "Show her in," the chief of the Paris police force ordered. Grace Ellicot entered Monsieur Lefevre's private office. "I have come to make an appeal to you, sir!" she began distractedly. "I have come to ask you to find my husband. ■ He has disappeared ! The circumstances are these : Yesterday morning he received an envelope that con ried?" he questioned, searching Grace's face with his keen gray eyes. "We — we had been married not quite an hour," she falteringly replied, "when — when he went away. But you started just now at the mention of his name — as though you were acquainted with him. Do you know Richard, sir? And, what is more important, do you know where he is?" A slow smile lifted Monsieur Lefevre's lips, while his eyes sparkled with the coming of an idea. "Doctor Hartmann doesn't wish you to firmly. "You must obey his orders mzM leave this room," the nurse announced or you will have cause to regret." 1 office by one door. Duvall, a moment later, strolled into it by the other. Both saw the man take the package out of his pocket. And then they saw some• thing else. Taking out a stamp, he affixed it to the package and dropped it through one of the slots in the wall marked "Outgoing Mail." The package had slipped through both Duvall's and his chief's fingers. It was in the British government's mail now, where they could not hope to recover it. As both stood rooted to the spot in which they had stopped, completely taken aback by the man's unexpected move, the man himself walked out of the post office unnoticed by either, and away in safety. "Duvall !" Monsieur Lefevre spoke sharply to the young man, reaching his side in a single stride. "'I have not told you what that box holds," the head of the secret-service bureau went on curtly. "I am not J going to tell you now. I have been pledged to secrecy concerning its contents. But what I do tell you is this : If you can get it back, I don't care how, your future is made. Do you understand? In all your career you will never receive a case that can touch, or even approach, this one for importance !" Duvall, a preoccupied expression on his face, was fishing in his pocket. He brought out the card that he had found on the floor, where it had been dropped beside the ambassador's murdered valet. He read the two lines it contained : "Doctor Hartmann, Brussels," a second time. Suddenly his countenance lighted as though an idea had struck him. He drove one fist into the open palm of his other hand. "That's where the package was addressed!" he exclaimed. Then, wheeling on his chief, he announced determinedly : "I'm going to Brussels, sir, by the first train — to get the box back !" "But how " began Monsieur Lefevre blankly. Duvall did not hear him. He had turned and was already running out of the post office, on his way to set forth upon the journey he had pledged himself to take in an effort to recover Monsieur de Grissac's precious snuffbox. When Monsieur Lefevre returned to tained nothing but a card. I saw that, although he wouldn't show me the card or tell me whom it was from. He told me that he would have to leave me for an hour or two. That was yesterday morning — and he has not come back yet. Something has happened to him, I know ! I have come here to you, as the chief of police of Paris, to beg, to entreat that you will make a search for him \" "What is your husband's name, madame?" asked Monsieur Lefevre kindly. "His name," answered Grace, "is Richard Duvall." The police chief started visibly. "And how long had you been mar "Yes, I know your husband, madame," he answered Grace. "His exact whereabouts at the present moment — that I cannot tell you, for I do not know myself. But I think I can help you in your quest for him, nevertheless. I will tell you how to find him." And the chief of the secret police leaned toward her eagerly. "Find the ivory snuffbox of the French ambassador — and you will find your husband !" he announced. It had struck Monsieur Lefevre that in this charming young woman who was looking for her husband, he had found another assistant to help him in the recovery of the snuffbox. Noting the