“Oh! Sure! What is it?”
“Just a bunch of old papers.” It was the Colonel who replied.
“Very old,” Mary grinned.
“Oh, yes, I remember, that old Arab’s stuff,” Sparky yawned. “Lot of trouble for very little, I’d say.”
“Yes,” Mary agreed. “A whole lot of trouble.” She laughed, and Sparky wondered why.
When Mary and her father re-entered their rooms at the hotel a half-hour later, things seemed a little strange.
“I left that bag on that low bench,” Mary recalled. “Now it’s standing beside the bench. What’s more, it doesn’t look quite the same.”
Picking it up, she turned it on its side, placed it on the bench, then threw back the snaps. Up came the lid.
“Dad!” she exclaimed, “it’s my bag! The things are all there, even a candy bar I bought at the U.S.O. in Egypt.”
“Very kind of our Nazi friends to return it. Probably came in through the window.” He wandered about testing the catches. “That’s right,” he called at last. “The window in my sleeping room is unlocked.”