“That’s what I thought you said!” Ken sounded triumphant. “But take a look at this. The box didn’t weigh that much last night when you took this picture. Look what the scale shows here. It’s considerably under four and a half. Isn’t it?”
He handed the picture and the magnifying glass to Sandy, and Sandy studied the print carefully. “You’re right,” he said slowly. “But this is a tiny image. Maybe—”
“Let’s check up. Mom hasn’t got the lining fastened in yet. The box must weigh just what it did last night.”
Ken disappeared for a moment and came back carrying it in his hands. He put it on the kitchen scales, and both boys watched silently as the pointer swung back and forth in diminishing arcs. Finally it came to rest.
“Four pounds and five ounces,” Sandy said wonderingly. “But how can that be? I must have been wrong the other night. But I was sure—” He broke off abruptly. “Could Sam have done anything to the box to reduce its weight? Do you suppose he had to take something off in order to fix it?”
Ken was still watching the scale as if fascinated. “He just straightened the bent lever. Even if he had removed it entirely that wouldn’t have reduced the weight by three ounces.”
He looked up, finally, into Sandy’s puzzled face. “I don’t think this is the same box Dad brought home,” Ken said.
CHAPTER VI
UNEXPECTED CALLER