s went on for some days. After a week or so Andrew saw that it was
hopeless to try to get a cigar-case back to Scotland Yard in this casual
sort of way; it must be taken there deliberately by somebody who had a
morning to spare and was willing to devote it to this special purpose.
He placed the case, therefore, prominently on a small table in the
dining-room to await the occasion; calling also the attention of his
family to it, as an excuse for an outing when they were not otherwise
engaged.

At times he used to say, "I must really take that cigar-case to Scotland
Yard to-morrow."

At other times he would say, "Somebody must really take that cigar-case
to Scotland Yard to-day."

And so the weeks rolled on....

It was about a year later that I first got mixed up with the thing. I
must have dined with the Andrews several times without noticing the
cigar-case, but on this occasion it caught my eye as we wandered out to
join the ladies, and I picked it up carelessly. Well, not exactly
carelessly; it was too heavy for that.

"Why didn't you tell me," I said, "that you had stood for Parliament and
that your supporters had consoled you with a large piece of plate? Hallo,
they've put the wrong initials on it. How unbusiness-like."

"Oh, _that_?" said Andrew. "Is it still there?"

"Why not? It's quite a solid little table. But you haven't explained why
your constituents, who must have seen your name on hundreds of posters,
thought your initials were E.M.W."

Andrew explained.

"Then it isn't yours at all?" I said in amazement.

"Of course not."

"But, my dear man, this is theft. Stealing by finding, they call it. You
could get"--I looked at him almost with admiration--"you could get two
years for this"; and I weighed the cigar-case in my hand. "I believe
you're the only one of my friends who could be certain of two years,"
I went on musingly. "Let's see, there's--"

"Nonsense," said Andrew uneasily. "But still, perhaps I'd better take it
back to Scotland Yard to-morrow."

"And tell them you've kept it for a year? They'd run you in at once. No,
what you want to do is to get rid of it without their knowledge. But
how--that's the question. You can't give it away because of the
initials."

"It's easy enough. I can leave it in another cab, or drop it in the
river."

"Andrew, Andrew," I cried, "you're determined to go to prison! Don't you
know from all the humorous articles you've ever read that, if you _try_
to l