In the low window in front there was a rare and curious collection of articles that would have delighted the eyes of an antiquarian.

Locks there were, that were relics of a by-gone age, and seemed as if they might have done service on dungeon doors in some ancient keep in feudal times--strange and grotesque locks that had evidently pleased the fancy of some old connoisseur, whose treasures were guarded by these strange looking protectors, which had now outgrown their usefulness, and were exhibited as curiosities in the practical age of to-day.

Locks of latest finish and design, and locks red and rusty and worn out, were mingled together with a confusion and carelessness that bespoke a thriving business, which left no time for order or arrangement.
Entering the shop without hesitation and with a careless air of assurance, Everman found himself in the presence of the locksmith, who was busily employed at his work.

Mr.Black was a stout, good-looking, middle-aged man, who wore bushy whiskers and a pair of iron-rimmed spectacles.

On the entrance of the detective he came forward with a pleasant smile on his face, as though expecting a profitable customer, and greeted the operative.
"Well, sir, what can I do for you to-day ?" "Nothing in the way of business," replied the detective; "I am seeking some information which perhaps you can give me." "Take a seat," said the locksmith, pushing a stool toward the detective, and at the same time seating himself upon the counter.