True enough, the uniform-case was outside. Jonah and I had its cords off in twenty seconds. One hinge was broken and some khaki was protruding. Adèle thrust the key into the lock. This was too stiff for her fingers, so after a desperate struggle, she let me have at the wards.... After an exhausting two minutes we sent for a cold-chisel.... As the lock yielded, Berry appeared upon the scene. For a moment he stared at us. Then-- "But why not gun-cotton?" he inquired. "That's the stuff to open a broken box with, if you don't like the look of the key. You know, you're thwarting me. And don't try to turn the lid back, because there aren't any hin----" The sentence was never finished. As I lifted the lid, my brother-in-law fell upon his knees. With trembling hands he plucked at a Jaeger rug, reposing, carefully folded, upon the top of some underclothes. Then he threw back his head and took himself by the throat. "Goats and monkeys!" he shrieked. "_It's somebody else's case!_" * * * * * When, twenty-four hours later, a letter arrived from Piers' aunt, inviting us all to tea, we accepted, not because we felt inclined to go junketing, but because we did not wish to seem rude. We were in a peevish mood. For this the loss of our forbidden fruit was indirectly responsible. The immediate cause of our ill-humour was the exasperating reflection that we were debarred from taking even those simple steps which lead to the restoration of lost luggage. We stood in the shoes of a burglar who has been robbed of his spoils. As like as not, our precious uniform-case was lying at the station, waiting to be claimed. Yet we dared not inquire, because of what our inquiries might bring forth. Of course the authorities might be totally ignorant of its contents. But then, again, they might not. It was a risk we could not take. The chance that, by identifying our property, we might be at once accusing and convicting ourselves of smuggling a very large quantity of tobacco, was too considerable. There were moments when Jonah and I, goaded to desperation, felt ready to risk penal servitude and 'have a dart' at the bait. But Berry would not permit us. If things went wrong, he declared, he was bound to be involved--hideously. And he'd had enough of thin ice. The wonder was, his hair wasn't white.... By the time we had swung him round, our own courage had evaporated.