“You are sure it has not been out of your possession?”
“Yes, I could swear to that.”
“What do you do with it at night?”
“I don’t do anything with it. I leave it in the pocket.”
“And you really think it safe to carry a key of such importance loose in your waistcoat pocket?”
“Yes, I think it is as safe there as it would be anywhere else.”
“Humph, and now I want you to tell me about these,” taking out his pocketbook and unfolding the notice The Tundish had printed and the two duplicates he and I had printed later on at breakfast.
He turned to the doctor for information and was told in detail about the practical joke, about our conversation in the garden, and about Kenneth’s inquiry at the breakfast table. The Tundish spoke simply and to the point, omitting nothing, not even our arrangement to lie like troopers in our efforts to mystify the rest.
“Humph, it all sounds rather extraordinary, you know, Doctor, not what I should have expected of you somehow. I take it there was no ulterior motive?”
“No, it was a practical joke and nothing more.”