“Your trunk! Why should they want that? It was—” She checked herself in time.
The lady cop gave her a sharp look, but proceeded to answer her question as well as she might.
“The truth is, I don’t know why they wanted that trunk,” she began. “They have wanted it for a long time. Now that they have it, I hope they are satisfied. I can get a tin one down at the store for a few dollars. And it, I hope, will contain no secrets.”
“Secrets!” Florence wished to tell her own secret, that the mysterious trunk was safely locked up in a hunting cabin back in the woods where she and Tillie had carried it through the rain and the dark. She did not quite dare.
“That trunk,” said the lady cop, up-ending a chair and dropping into it, “has been the most spooky thing you ever saw.
“My cousin bought it for me at a police auction sale.”
“A police auction sale!” Tillie stared at her hard.
“Once a year the police department sells all the lost, stolen and unclaimed articles that have come into its keeping. You’d be surprised at the variety of articles sold there; electric drills, oriental rugs, watches, knives, burglars’ tools, suitcases full of silks—everything.
“This trunk was in the sale. It was filled with a lot of worthless clothing. But my cousin bought it for me. It was such an unusual affair. Teakwood, heavy copper, walrus hide. You wouldn’t understand unless you saw it.”
Florence and Tillie exchanged significant glances.