“Hold the wire a moment,” said Roger, and clapped his hand over the mouthpiece.  “She says Weintraub left a suitcase of books there to be called for.  What do you make of that?”

“For the love of God, tell her not to touch those books.”

“Hullo?” said Roger.  Aubrey, leaning over him, noticed that the little bookseller’s naked pate was ringed with crystal beads.

“Hullo?” replied Titania’s elfin voice promptly.

“Did you open the suitcase?”

“No.  It’s locked.  Mr. Weintraub said there were a lot of old books in it for a friend of his.  It’s very heavy.”

“Look here,” said Roger, and his voice rang sharply.  “This is important.  I don’t want you to touch that suitcase.  Leave it wherever it is, and don’t touch it.  Promise me.”

“Yes, Mr. Mifflin.  Had I better put it in a safe place?”

“Don’t touch it!”

“Bock’s sniffing at it now.”

“Don’t touch it, and don’t let Bock touch it.  It—­it’s got valuable papers in it.”

“I’ll be careful of it,” said Titania.

“Promise me not to touch it.  And another thing—­if any one calls for it, don’t let them take it until I get home.”

Aubrey held out his watch in front of Roger.  The latter nodded.

“Do you understand?” he said.  “Do you hear me all right?”

“Yes, splendidly.  I think it’s wonderful!  You know I never talked on long distance before——­”

“Don’t touch the bag,” repeated Roger doggedly, “and don’t let any one take it until we—­until I get back.”

“I promise,” said Titania blithely.

“Good-bye,” said Roger, and set down the receiver.  His face looked curiously pinched, and there was perspiration in the hollows under his eyes.  Aubrey held out his watch impatiently.

“We’ve just time to make it,” cried Roger, and they rushed from the shop.

It was not a sprightly journey.  The train made its accustomed detour through West Philadelphia and North Philadelphia before getting down to business, and the two voyagers felt a personal hatred of the brakemen who permitted passengers from these suburbs to straggle leisurely aboard instead of flogging them in with knotted whips.  When the express stopped at Trenton, Aubrey could easily have turned a howitzer upon that innocent city and blasted it into rubble.  An unexpected stop at Princeton Junction was the last straw.  Aubrey addressed the conductor in terms that were highly treasonable, considering that this official was a government servant.

The winter twilight drew in, gray and dreary, with a threat of snow.  For some time they sat in silence, Roger buried in a Philadelphia afternoon paper containing the text of the President’s speech announcing his trip to Europe, and Aubrey gloomily recapitulating the schedule of his past week.  His head throbbed, his hands were wet with nervousness so that crumbs of tobacco adhered to them annoyingly.