"Any other message?" I inquired morosely.

"Only about the box, sir. Mr. Raffles said as you was goin' to take
chawge of it time he's away, and I've a friend ready to lend a 'and
in getting it on the cab. It's a rare 'eavy 'un, but Mr. Raffles an'
me could lift it all right between us, so I dessay me an' my friend
can."

For my own part, I must confess that its weight concerned me less
than the vast size of that infernal chest, as I drove with it past
club and park at ten o'clock in the morning. Sit as far back as I
might in the four-wheeler, I could conceal neither myself nor my
connection with the huge iron-clamped case upon the roof: in my
heated imagination its wood was glass through which all the world
could see the guilty contents. Once an officious constable held up
the traffic at our approach, and for a moment I put a blood-curdling
construction upon the simple ceremony. Low boys shouted after us
- or if it was not after us, I thought it was - and that their cry
was "Stop thief!" Enough said of one of the most unpleasant
cab-drives I ever had in my life. Horresco referens.

At the bank, however, thanks to the foresight and liberality of
Raffles, all was smooth water. I paid my cabman handsomely, gave
a florin to the stout fellow in livery whom he helped with the
chest, and could have pressed gold upon the genial clerk who laughed
like a gentleman at my jokes about the Liverpool winners and the
latest betting on the Family Plate. I was only disconcerted when
he informed me that the bank gave no receipts for deposits of this
nature. I am now aware that few London banks do. But it is
pleasing to believe that at the time I looked - what I felt - as