ture by a tube seemed to bear out the landlady's statement that the lodger prepared his own food. The only other unusual article in the room was a large trunk or box of Oriental appearance standing against the farther wall. Presently Max, still standing by the window, cleared his nostrils with a deep breath. Slowly, very slowly indeed, he now made out surely an odor—the softly pungent, entirely distinctive smell of sandalwood. It was concealed—that is, the sandalwood was covered—but it was there. Max crossed the room and slipped his hand about the bulky box-trunk from which this odor came.
He felt for the fastenings—straps, the buckles of which yielded easily. Below these was a lock; but it was not a lock like that on the door, which defied picking, and
