"Perhaps you would describe these vases for Mr. Taverner's benefit," the lawyer suggested.
"They're not worth describing, sir. They are the sort of things exchanged by hawkers for a rabbit skin. A pair of green vases about eighteen inches high, with red cabbages meant for roses splashed across them."
"We need not trouble you any further, I think," said Percy.
"It was the most difficult job I've had in my life. I value plate and furniture, not the contents of museums," the man protested.
"You have done your work excellently, as usual; and you have also given us the information we require," said Mr. Hunter, as the valuer took his hat and his leave.
"Of course you see what has happened," began Percy at once.
"Mr. Drake had concealed the vases. I shall write pretty sharply to remind him he must not play these tricks with the law," said Mr. Hunter.
"He's a bigger fool than I took him for, if he thought he could deceive the valuer—not to mention you and me," said Percy.
"Mr. Drake is no fool: on the contrary, he seems a clever fellow. He did not suppose he could deceive the valuer, nor did he make the attempt. He simply produced the pair of worthless vases without comment."
"Then what is he playing at?"