"No, her memory is failing; she would not remember anything about it, but we can very soon learn."
The detective had made the last suggestion in his eagerness to make sure that the clothes were not lost.
The old man led the way up to his attic, and our athletic hero lifted a number of old boxes, and finally came to a trunk, old and green with mold, and the old man said:
"That's it—yes, that is the box. Haul it down and we will soon learn, but I will swear that they are there, for that box has not been disturbed, as you can see, for many years."
The detective stood a moment wiping the perspiration from his face, for it was hot up in that attic, and he was excited. After a moment, however, he hauled down the box and watched the old man as the latter proceeded to open it.
CHAPTER V.
THE SECRET OF THE OLD BOX—A GHASTLY FIND—WONDERFUL CONFIRMATIONS—STILL MORE WONDERFUL DETECTIVE WORK—A NOVEL SURPRISE—THE DEAD ALIVE—AN ABSOLUTE IDENTIFICATION.
"Great Scott!" cried the old man, as the lid of the box flew off and disclosed a package of old clothes—yes, old apparel including hat and boots.
"Here they are," he said; "I don't swear, but darn it, if this isn't wonderful—yes, it's a surprise after all."
"It is the hand of fate," said the detective, in a solemn tone.