David slipped from the house and caught a 'bus in St. George's Road.

At the police-station he learnt that Inspector Marley was still on the
premises. Marley came forward gravely. He had a few questions to ask, but
nothing to tell.

"And now perhaps you can give me some information?" David said, "You are
advertising in to-night's _Argus_ a gun-metal cigar-case set with
diamonds."

"Ah," Marley said, eagerly, "can you tell us anything about it?"

"Nothing beyond the fact that I hope to satisfy you that the case is
mine."

Marley stared open-mouthed at David for a moment, and then relapsed into
his sapless official manner. He might have been a detective
cross-examining a suspected criminal.

"Why this mystery?" David asked. "I have lost a gun-metal cigar-case set
with diamonds, and I see a similar article is noted as found by the
police. I lost it this morning, and I shrewdly suspect that I left it
behind me at the office of Mr. Mossa."

"The case was sent here by Mr. Mossa himself," Marley admitted.

"Then, of course, it is mine. I had to give Mr. Mossa my opinion of him
this morning, and by way of spiting me he sent that case here, hoping,
perhaps, that I should not recover it. You know the case Marley--it was
lying on the floor of my conservatory last night."