The house and park which I had seen we were unable to identify, and the
Post Office Guide was silent as to the whereabouts of Colt. But the
excitement which Daphne's production of a tape-measure aroused was only
exceeded by the depression which was created by our failure to discover
anything unusual about the chest.

We measured the cornice and we measured the plinth. We measured the
frame and we measured the drawers. But if the linear measurements
afforded us little satisfaction, the square measurements revealed
considerably less, while, since no one of us was a mathematician, the
calculation of the cubic capacity proved, not only unprofitable, but
provocative of such bitter arguments and insulting remarks that Daphne
demanded that we should desist.

"All right," said Berry, "if you don't believe me, call in a consulting
engineer. I've worked the blinking thing out three times. I admit the
answers were entirely different, but that's not my fault. I never did
like astrology. I tell you the beastly chest holds twenty-seven thousand
point nine double eight recurring cubic inches of air. Some other fool
can reduce that to rods, and there you are. I'm fed up with it. Thanks
to the machinations of that congenital idiot with the imitation
mustachios, I've paid more than four times its value, and I'm not going
to burst my brains trying to work out which drawer would have had a
false bottom if it had been built by a dipsomaniac who kept fowls. And
that's that."

Tearfully Miss Childe announced that it was time for her to be going,
and I elected to escort her as far as the garage. As we stepped on to
the pavement--