While they had been talking, Andrews had lead the way along the beach to the bungalow which had been the subject of conversation. It was innocent enough to look at, consisting of two railway coaches set parallel to each other with a lounge between, and was furnished with violet basket chairs and sofa, and a green carpet. The door was locked but as there were no curtains or blinds, it was possible to see the whole interior.
“What do you make of it?” asked Andrews.
“There’s nothing remarkable about it that I can see, and I really don’t know why you attach so much importance to seeing two strangers about at night time.”
“Have a look at the back,” said Andrews with a smile.
Fletcher did so, and returned to the other. “Well,” he said “there’s just a little kitchen.”
Andrews assumed an air of mystery.
“You see this sitting room, what do you make its length by guessing?”
Fletcher put his eye to the window. “About twelve feet, I should say,” he said.
“Right, and the kitchen at the back I make about five feet in depth. Very well, that makes roughly seventeen feet in all, but these railway coaches are thirty-five feet in length, and the question is, what is in between?”
Fletcher became interested. “By Jove, I believe you have got hold of something,” he said. “We’d better have a look.”