There burst into the room Officer 666, entangled in the lid and straps of an empty trunk. It was a 198 steamer trunk and not very heavy, but Travers Gladwin was far from adept in baggage smashing.
He had wasted so much time in hunting for the trunk that he had sought to make up for the delay by executing what resembled an aëroplane descent.
At the final twist of the staircase the trunk had mastered him and charged with him into the room. As he lay sprawled on the floor with a foolish grin on his face, the discomfited lover turned on him with a voice of fury.
“Officer, what the deuce is the matter with you?”
The intense savagery of his tone made the girl shrink away from him and turn pale. He managed to cover his break so quickly with a forced laugh and an effort to assist Gladwin to his feet that her fear was only momentary.
In the last stage of his downward flight Gladwin glimpsed that he had dropped in barely in time to spoil another touching scene. With a grin of sheer delight, he asked:
“Where’ll I put the trunk, sorr?”
“Put it there.”
The self-styled Gladwin pointed to the right of the chest and set to work to gather up his few hundred thousand dollars’ worth of pelf. He was about to place the flat packages in the trunk when he turned to Helen and asked:
“Do you see any others that you’d like me to take, dear?”