"What case?" demanded the Inspector.
"That's right," corroborated Ermyntrude. "He brought the gun back in a case of his own, and I said at the time it was just like my husband to lend the gun out of its case."
"An ordinary shot-gun case?" said the Inspector.
"No, a nasty, cheap-looking thing," replied Ermyntrude.
Peake coughed behind his hand. "If I might be allowed to explain to the Inspector, madam? Mr. White was carrying what is known as a hambone-case."
"He was, was he? Was he carrying anything else?"
"No, Inspector, nothing else."
"Did you see him out of the house?"
"Certainly I did," answered Peake, slighty affronted.
"All right, that's all." He waited until the butler had departed, and then said with all the air of one whose most cherished illusion has been shattered: "There, now, we shall have to give up thinking about White after all. Seems a pity, but there it is."