by
asking how she was to live now that her boy Sid was dead. The Coroner
professed himself unable to answer this question, and dismissed her.

Samuel Quass, the landlord of the Sailor's Rest, was next called. He
proved to be a big, burly, red-haired, red-whiskered man, who looked
like a sailor. And indeed a few questions elicited the information that
he was a retired sea-captain. He gave his evidence gruffly but honestly,
and although he kept so shady a public-house, seemed straightforward
enough. He told much the same tale as had appeared in the newspapers.
In the hotel on that night there was only himself, his wife and two
children, and the staff of servants. Bolton retired to bed saying that
he might start early for Gartley, and paid one pound to get the case
taken across to river and placed on a lorry. As Bolton had vanished next
morning, Quass obeyed instructions, with the result which everyone knew.
He also stated that he did not know the case contained a mummy.

"What did you think it contained?" asked the Coroner quickly.

"Clothes and curios from foreign parts," said the witness coolly.

"Did Mr. Bolton tell you so?"

"He told me nothing about the case," growled the witness, "but he
chatted a lot about Malta, which I know well, having put into that port
frequent when a sailor."

"Did he hint at any rows taking place at Malta?"

"No, he didn't."

"Did he say that he had enemies?"

"No, he didn't."

"Did he strike you as a man who was in fear of death?"

"No, he didn't," said the witness for the third time. "He seemed happy
enough. I never thought for one moment that he was dead until I heard
how his body had been found in the packing case."

The Coroner asked all manner of questions, and so did Inspector Date;
but all attempts to incriminate Quass were vain. He was bluff and
straightforward, and told--so far as could be judged--everything he
knew. There was nothing for it but to dismiss him, and Eliza Flight was
called as the last witness.

She also proved to be the most important, as she knew several things
which she had not told to her master, or to the reporters, or even to
the police. On being asked why she had kept silence, she said that her
desire was to obtain any reward that might be offered; but as she had
heard that there would be no reward, she was willing to tell what she
knew. It was an important piece of evidence.

The girl stated that Bolton had retired to bed at eight on the grou