‘I drove to the yard, and then everything went wrong. First, the boss was there himself, and in a vile temper. I didn’t know till afterwards, but one of our carts had been run into by a motor-lorry earlier in the evening and a lot of damage done and that had upset him. ‘“What’s this thing you’ve got?” he said, when he saw the cask. ‘I told him, and added that Felix had asked me to take it on in the morning, handing him the ten shillings. ‘“Where is it to go?” he asked. ‘Now this was a puzzler, for I hadn’t expected there’d be any one there to ask questions and I had no answer ready. So I made up an address. I chose a big street of shops and warehouses about four miles away--too far for the boss to know much about it, and I tacked on an imaginary number. ‘“133 Little George Street,” I answered. ‘The boss took a bit of chalk and wrote the address on the blackboard we have for such notes. Then he turned back to the broken cart, and I unyoked the horse from the dray and went home. ‘I was very annoyed by the turn things had taken, but I thought that after all it would not make much difference having given the address. I could go to the empty house in the morning as I had arranged. ‘I was early over at Jim’s next morning and told him the story. He was real mad at first and cursed me for all kinds of a fool. I kept on explaining how safe it was, for we were both sure Felix couldn’t call in the police or make a fuss. At last he agreed to stand in with me, and it was arranged that he would go direct to the empty house, while I followed with the cask. He would explain his not turning up at the yard by saying he was ill. ‘The boss was seldom in when we arrived, but he was there this morning, and his temper was no better. ‘“Here, you,” he called, when he saw me, “I thought you were never coming. Get the big gray yoked into the box cart and get away to this address”--he handed me a paper--“to shift a piano.” ‘“But the cask,” I stammered. ‘“You mind your own business and do what you’re told. I’ve settled about that.” ‘I looked round. The dray was gone, and whether he’d sent it back to Felix or to the address I’d given, I didn’t know. ‘I cursed the whole affair bitterly, particularly when I thought of Jim waiting at the house. But there was nothing I could do, and I yoked the box cart and left. I went round by the house and told Jim, and I never saw a madder man in all my life. I could make nothing of him, so I left him and did the piano job. I just got back to the yard and was going for dinner when you nabbed me.’ When the prisoner had mentioned the address in Little George Street, Burnley had given a rapid order to the driver, and the statement had only just been finished when the car turned into the street. ‘No. 133, you said?’ ‘That’s it, sir.’ No. 133 was a large hardware shop. Burnley saw the proprietor.