lsewhere, and I know you did. Besides, there was an up-train
four minutes after mine got in. I simply posted my letter in Crewe
station, and changed from one train to the other."

"At two in the morning!"

"Nearer three, Bunny. It was after seven when I slung in with the
Daily Mail. The milk had beaten me by a short can. But even so I had
two very good hours before you were due."

"And to think," I murmured, "how you deceived me there!"

"With your own assistance," said Raffles laughing. "If you had looked
it up you would have seen there was no such train in the morning, and I
never said there was. But I meant you to be deceived, Bunny, and I
won't say I didn't--it was all for the sake of the side! Well, when
you carted me away with such laudable despatch, I had rather an
uncomfortable half-hour, but that was all just then. I had my candle,
I had matches, and lots to read. It was quite nice in that strong-room
until a very unpleasant incident occurred."

"Do tell me, my dear fellow!"

"I must have another Sullivan--thank you--and a match. The unpleasant
incident was steps outside and a key in the lock! I was disporting
myself on the lid of the trunk at the time. I had barely time to knock
out my light and slip down behind it. Luckily it was only another box
of sorts; a jewel-case, to be more precise; you shall see the contents
in a moment. The Easter exodus has done me even better than I dared to
hope."

His words reminded me of the Pall Mall Gazette, which I had brought in
my pocket from the Turkish bath. I fished it out, all wrinkled and
bloated by the heat of the hottest room, and handed it to Raffles with
my thumb upon the leaded paragraphs.

"Delightful!" said he when he had read them. "More thieves than one,
and the coal-cellar of all places as a way in! I certainly tried to
give it that appearance. I left enough candle-grease there to make
those coals burn bravely. But it looked up into a blind backyard,
Bunny, and a boy of eight couldn't have squeezed through the trap. Long
may that theory keep them happy at Scotland Yard!"

"But what about the fellow you knocked out?" I asked. "That was not
like you, Raffles."

Raffles blew pensive rings as he lay back on my sofa, his black hair
tumbled on the cushion, his pale profile as clear and sharp against the
light as though slashed out with the scissors.

"I know it wasn't, Bunny," he said regretfully. "But things like that,
as the poe