“That's all right,” said Hope, puzzled. “Where's your difficulty?”
“A note came from the landlord of the inn this morning, saying that by direction of Mr. Bolton—that is Sidney, you know—he was sending the mummy in its case to Gartley on a lorry, and that it would arrive at three o'clock this afternoon.”
“Well?” asked Hope, still puzzled.
“Well?” she rejoined impatiently. “Can't you see show strange it is that Sidney should let the mummy out of his sight, after guarding it so carefully not only from Malta to England, but all the night in Pierside at that hotel? Why doesn't he bring the mummy here himself, and come on with the lorry?”
“There is no explanation—no letter from Sidney Bolton?”
“None. He wrote yesterday, as I stated, saying that he would keep the case in the hotel, and send it on this morning.”
“Did he use the word send,' or the wordbring'?”
“He said 'send.'”
“Then that shows he did not intend to bring it himself.”
“But why should he not do so?”
“I daresay he will explain when he appears.”
“I am very sorry for him when he does appear,” said Lucy seriously, “for my father is furious. Why, this precious mummy, for which so much has been paid, might have been lost.”