Lockhart's, in North Street. No, I'll be hanged if I answer any more of
your questions, Marley. I'll be your Aunt Sally so far as you are
officially concerned. But as to yonder case, your queries are distinctly
impertinent."

Marley shook his head gravely, as one might over a promising but
headstrong boy.

"Do I understand that you decline to account for the case?" he asked.

"Certainly I do. It is connected with some friends of mine to whom I
rendered a service a little time back. The whole thing is and must remain
an absolute secret."

"You are placing yourself in a very delicate position, Mr. Steel."

David started at the gravity of the tone. That something was radically
wrong came upon him like a shock. And he could see pretty clearly that,
without betraying confidence, he could not logically account for the
possession of the cigar-case. In any case it was too much to expect
that the stolid police officer would listen to so extravagant a tale
for a moment.

"What on earth do you mean, man?" he cried.

"Well, it's this way, sir," Marley proceeded to explain. "When I pointed
out the case to you lying on the floor of your conservatory last night
you said it wasn't yours. You looked at it with the eyes of a stranger,
and then you said you were mistaken. From information given me last night
I have been making inquiries about the cigar-case. You took it to Mr.