"Indeed!"

"He hobbled away, and failed to take the satchel with him. At first I
could not believe that the sorrel gent and the old chap were the same.
I learned this by investigation. When, after waiting a spell, and no
sunset-haired gent came forth, I proceeded to investigate, and found
this satchel, which, under the law of military necessity, I proceeded
to confiscate, that the ends of justice might be furthered. If I have
done wrong, I am ready to throw myself on the mercy of the court, and
be forgiven."

"You have done right," cried Dyke Barrel. "Have you opened the
satchel?"

"No. It is locked, and I haven't a key that will fit."

Harry Bernard produced several keys, none of which fitted the lock to
the satchel.

"What are we to do?" cried Bernard. The satchel is securely locked,
and its owner has the key."

"This is no time for ceremony or undue squeamishness!" uttered Dyke
Darrel. "We are on the eve of an important discovery, and I propose to
make no delays."

Then, drawing a knife from his pocket, the detective bent over the
satchel and slit the sides at one stroke."