“Wait a minute!” ordered Mr. Gay. “I’m looking into those boxes.”
Mrs. Ferguson laughed scornfully.
“They just came from the ‘Five and Ten,’” she said. “They haven’t even been unwrapped. And I warn you men, if you break them, you can replace them! It’s not easy to get through the crowds now, either.”
Detective Gay smiled. “I’ll take the responsibility,” he promised as he untied the string of the top package. As Mrs. Ferguson had stated, it contained nothing but bright new Christmas-tree balls.
But when he lifted the second box in the pile—a huge package as big as a hat box—he knew immediately that it was too heavy to contain Christmas-tree ornaments. Nevertheless, his countenance was expressionless as he untied the string.
A great quantity of tissue paper covered the top of the box; this Mr. Gay removed, and from beneath it he drew forth a shabby blue book.
“Is this the stamp album?” he asked the hotel detective.
The other man gasped and rushed to Mr. Gay’s side.
“Yes! Yes!” he cried. “That’s it! See if the stamps are still in it.”
With a quick movement Pauline Brooks took two steps forward and snatched the book from the detective’s hands.