It was, as he had surmised, a small cardboard box; and it was wrapped in plain paper and tied with a string.

He untied the string, and still suspicious, as a man is suspicious in the knowledge that he is stalked by peril at every turn, removed the wrapper a little gingerly.
It was still without sign or marking upon it, just an ordinary cardboard box.

He lifted off the cover, and, with a short, sudden laugh, stared, a little out of countenance, at the contents.
On the top lay a white, unaddressed envelope.

HERS! Beneath--he emptied the box on the table--his black silk mask, his automatic revolver, the kit of fine, small blued-steel burglar's tools, his pocket flashlight, and the thin metal insignia case.

The Tocsin! Impulsively Jimmie Dale turned toward the door--and stopped.