"Legally," said the attorney, "you may strike three blows." At the third blow a portion of the lid fell clattering to the floor, and the three men and Miss Sally peered anxiously into the box.

From it the Colonel tenderly lifted a nickel-plated cylinder, as tall as a man's knee and as large around as a leg of mutton.

It had a convex top, and on one side a dial.

From near the base a long rubber tube extended.
The Colonel handled the thing gently.

He held it in his hands as an old bachelor might handle his newborn nephew, and Miss Sally looked anxiously into his face, appealing for enlightenment.