ombat was going against you. We lay,
during the struggle, in the lee of your--your--er, schooner!--in the
lee of your schooner, armed, and ready to bear a hand. We have our own
little matter to settle with Logan Black. Why Logan Black should
desire possession of this particular box, I am unable to state.
Nevertheless, at the moment when he was leading his assault upon your
starboard bow, two of his men, who had made a detour to the stern of
your vessel, had clambered stealthily aboard, and were quietly pushing
the box over the side into the canal. They let themselves down into
the water, and swam towards the mouth of the canal, pushing it ahead of
them. We followed in our rowboat, Mr. Ward, Mr. Bard, and myself, at a
discreet distance. We let them push the box as far south as the
Annabel Lee. And then----"

He paused a moment, and smiled reminiscently. Barton Ward and Watson
Bard also smiled reminiscently, and the three detectives exchanged
crafty glances.

"Then, to be brief, we took the box away from them. They were so
ill-advised as to struggle. They are in irons, now, on board the
Annabel Lee.

"But what I cannot understand, Mr. Cleggett, is why these men should
risk so much to make off with an empty box."

"An empty box!" cried Cleggett.

"Empty!" echoed Lady Agatha and Miss Pringle, in concert.

The detective wrenched the cover from the box of Reginald Maltravers.

"Practically empty, at any rate," he said.

And, indeed, except for a few wads of wet excelsior, there was nothing
in the box of Reginald Maltravers.

"Where, then," cried Lady Agatha, "is Reginald Maltravers?"

"Where, indeed," said Wilton Barnstable, "is Reginald Maltravers?"

"Where, then," cried Miss Pringle, "are my plum preserves?"

"Where, indeed?" repeated Wilton Barnstable. And Barton Ward and Watson
Bard, although they did not speak aloud, stroked their mustaches and
their lips formed the ejaculation, "Where, indeed?"

"We will tell you everything," said Cleggett. And beginning with his
purchase of the Jasper B. he recounted rapidly, but with sufficient
detail, all the facts with which the reader is already familiar,
weaving into his story the tale of Lady Agatha and the adventures of
Miss Pringle. Wilton Barnstable listened attentively. So did Barton
Ward and Watson Bard. The benign smile which was so characteristic of
Wilton Barnstable never left the three faces, but it was evident to
Cleggett that these trained