"Slippers are what appeal to me," I sighed, wishing Nyoda would hurry
back with the key. My shoes had been soaked in mud which had dried and
left them stiff, and walking around all day on the scorching sidewalks
had about parboiled my feet. Nyoda returned just then and opened the
trunk without delay, while we crowded around to seize upon our wished-
for belongings as soon as possible.

But when the cover was tilted back we fell over in as much surprise as
if a jack-in-the-box had sprung out at us. Instead of Sahwah's red
dressing-gown on top as we had expected there were rows and rows of
bottles. We stared stupidly, not knowing whether to believe our eyes or
not.

"You've got the wrong trunk!" we cried to Nyoda.

Nyoda went post-haste back to the garage. When she came back she wore a
puzzled look. "The garage man declares that was the trunk that came
with the Glow-worm," she said, in a dazed voice. "He says it was never
removed from the rack, as all the work was on the front wheel and front
fender."

Sahwah took one of the bottles from the trunk and held it up. It
contained some fluid guaranteed to make the hair stay in curl in the
dampest weather. There was a bright yellow label halfway around it that
bore the classic slogan, "One touch of Curline makes the whole world
kink." Sahwah began to giggle hysterically. At any other time we would
all have laughed heartily over that ridiculous trademark, but just now
we were too much concerned with the loss of our things to feel like
laughing.