This seemed to end the matter as far as Puddicoombe was concerned, and French next asked to see the carter who had taken it to the station. The man, fortunately, was available, and French questioned him minutely. He stated he remembered the occasion in question. On the Tuesday morning he had loaded up the crate, Puddicoombe assisting. It was lifted by a differential and pushed out of the packing-shed on a small overhead runway and lowered on to the lorry. He had driven it to the station, unloading it in the goods-shed, and had obtained the usual signature. He had not allowed it out of his sight all the time it was in his charge and it was quite impossible that its contents could have been tampered with. “I shall see the station people, of course,” French declared to Mr. Fogden when they returned to the latter’s office, “though I don’t suppose the crate could have been tampered with during the journey. What you have told me has satisfied me as to its stay here except on one point. Could the duplicator have been taken out during the night?” Mr. Fogden believed it impossible. “We have a night watchman,” he explained; “quite a reliable old fellow, too. Nothing could have been done without his knowledge.” “Could I see him?” “Of course. But you’ll have to wait while I send for him.” After some time an office boy ushered in a wizened old man with a goatee beard who answered to the name of Gurney. He blinked at French out of a pair of bright little eyes like some wise old bird, and spoke with a pleasing economy of words. He came on duty, he said, each evening at seven o’clock, relieving one of the late stokers, who kept an eye on things between the closing of the works at 5.15 and that hour. His first care was to examine the boilers of the electric power plant, of which he had charge during the night, then he invariably made an inspection of the whole premises. For part of the time he sat in the boiler-house, but on at least three other occasions he walked round and made sure everything was in order. The boiler fires were banked and did not give much trouble, but he had to watch the pressure gauges and occasionally to adjust the dampers. At six in the morning he was relieved by the early stokers and he then went home. He declared that it would be impossible for anyone to tamper with the goods in the packing-shed unknown to him. The packing-shed and the boiler-house were at opposite sides of a narrow yard, and should the light be turned on in the former no one in the latter could fail to see it. He remembered the Monday night in question, because it was that on which Mr. Berlyn and Mr. Pyke had lost their lives. On that night he had come on duty as usual and had gone his customary rounds. He was very emphatic that no one had entered the works during his period of duty.