Rex was home! His telegram handed in at the docks preceded him only by half-an-hour, and his thunderous knock at the door and his long and continuous peal on the bell told Tab the identity of the impatient caller, long before he had thrown open the door and gripped the hand of the returned traveller.
“Yes, I’m back,” said Rex heartily, as he dropped himself into a chair and fanned himself with his hat. He was looking thinner, a little more peaked of face, but the colour of health was on his cheeks and his eyes were bright.
“You’ll have to put me up, old man,” he said, “I simply will not go to an hotel while you’ve an available bed in the flat, and besides I want to tell you something about my plans for the future.”
“Before we start dreaming,” said Tab, “listen to a little bit of sordid reality. You have been burgled, my lad!”
“Burgled?” said Rex incredulously. “How do you mean, Tab? I left nothing to be burgled.”
“You left a couple of trunks which have been thoroughly and scientifically examined by somebody who has got a grudge against you.”
“Good God!” said Rex. “Did they find the key? I only saw the story of the second murder when I landed.”
“You did leave the key in the trunk?”
Rex nodded.
“I left it in a box, a small wooden box with a sliding lid. There were two of these boxes, I remember, one in each trunk, they were compass boxes.”