“Looks like it. And it looks as if it finished up at Swansea also. It was seen again on the following morning. About ten o’clock a patrol saw a breakdown lorry coming towards Swansea along the Pontardulais road. It corresponded with the description in every respect except that it was carrying the tarpaulin only.” “By Jove! Superintendent, that’s good. It won’t be long till we run it to earth. I take it there are not many breakdown lorries in Swansea.” “Give you a list in half an hour.” He touched a bell. “Here, Thomas, start in and ring up all the local garages and find out how many have repair lorries. You know what I mean, fitted with cranes. And see here. You needn’t worry about any with fixed jibs—only those that can be raised and lowered. Got that?” The constable saluted smartly and withdrew. Howells turned to French and was beginning a remark, when his desk telephone rang. “Yes. Superintendent Howells speaking. . . . Yes. . . . Gorseinon. . . . Yes. . . . What time was that? . . . Very good, I’ve got you.” He rang off. “There’s another, Mr. French. I think you’re all right this time. At half past twelve that same Monday night a patrol found your lorry in another lane, also hidden by trees. It was a mile or so east of a little place called Gorseinon: that’s about five miles northeast of Loughor. It was standing in the lane and the driver was working at his engine. Our men stopped and spoke, and the driver said he had been on a job out beyond Llandilo and was returning to Swansea. The description matches and the crate was then on the lorry.” “Fine!” French exclaimed. “That settles it. He was evidently going round killing time until it was late enough to throw in the crate. Could we fix his course from all those places you mentioned?” “Pretty nearly, I think. Here is a map of the district. He seems to have just made a circle from Swansea to Loughor _via_ Morriston, Neath, Pontardawe and Gorseinon: say twenty-five miles altogether. Goodness knows how he returned, but it may have been through Bynea and Pontardulais. We may take it he made another détour, anyhow.” “He made a blunder going with the lorry in that open way,” French said, grimly. “I don’t see what else he could have done. But I bet he wasn’t worrying much about being seen. He was banking on the crate not being found.” “You’re right, and on odds he was justified. It was by a pretty thin chance that it was discovered. I was saying that to Nield—how the one unlikely chance that a man overlooks or discounts is the one that gets him.” “That’s a fact, Inspector, and it’s lucky for us it is so. I remember once when——” But French was not destined to hear the superintendent’s reminiscence. The telephone bell once again rang stridently.