“They omitted to put a bracket for the lamp. You see, I wanted three green lights in a line for the Gold Train--it is very necessary that it should be very accurately and easily distinguished and signalled. By some chance only two of the brackets were in place when the engine came from the works. It is all the more annoying, because I had already given definite instructions upon that point, but we shall not go wrong for a lamp,” he said humorously. It is agreed that the three hours between two and five on a Sunday afternoon are the three dullest in the hundred and sixty-eight which constitute a week. After the guests had left for London Sir Ralph and Lord Flanborough remained at the little station hotel--Ralph had already projected a more palatial establishment to meet the increased traffic--for it had been arranged that they should greet the _Charter Queen_ on her arrival. At three o’clock that afternoon Ralph burst unceremoniously into Lord Flanborough’s private sitting room where his lordship sat dozing. “Have you had a wire?” he said. He held a pink form in his own hand. “A wire! What about?” asked Lord Flanborough startled. “Read this.” The telegram was signed “Michael,” and read: “Simultaneous attempt made to burgle your strong room at Austral-African office and Flanborough’s safe at headquarters of mining corporation. Both unsuccessful. Both doors blown out by nitro-gelatine. Will confirm by ’phone.” Lord Flanborough looked at the other open-mouthed. “This is very serious,” he said. “I have ordered a special to take us to town. We will wait till we get the ’phone message through.” Ten minutes after they were in communication with Michael. “Both doors have been blown out,” he repeated, “and there are one or two very puzzling features about the burglaries. Nobody could have been present in either office when the explosions occurred. There was no fire and, so far as I can see, nothing has been taken away. You had better come up and examine things for yourself.” “It is rather awkward,” said Sir Ralph thoughtfully as he hung up the receiver; “my ‘special’ driver is also the driver of the gold special.” “It doesn’t require any great genius to drive a gold special,” snapped Flanborough; “put another man on to work to-night’s train and let us get up to town as soon as we can.” The special was waiting in the station by the time they had reached the platform. Sir Ralph stayed long enough to give a few instructions to the superintendent and then boarded the train and was soon flying northward. That Sunday morning had been an interesting one for Michael. He had been aroused by telephone at five o’clock only to learn from an apologetic operator that the wrong number had been called. Although it was two hours before he usually rose, he had his bath and dressed and not waking his servants made himself some coffee.