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Page 6
"Phew!" whistled Sparkes. "They go through your baggage with a fine
toothcomb nowadays. Couldn't you drop over the side with your bag and drift
ashore on a deserted beach, disguised as a floating mine?"
"I've cut impersonations of hardware out of my _r�pertoire_ since the day I
failed to get past an R.T.O. disguised as a brass-hat," said Percival
sadly. "I suppose I must fall back on direct action. I've a feeling that
England expects every man this day to pay his duty."
On the quay there was the usual mad charge of porters. Percival indicated
his bag to one of them with a distracted air, and followed him to the
Customs House guiltily. The porter dumped the bag before an official, who
had a piece of chalk hopefully poised between his fingers.
"'Nything t' 'clare?" he asked, preparing to affix the sign which spelt
freedom.
Percival blew his nose violently, hoping the chalk would descend to save
him the necessity of answering, but it remained poised in mid-air.
"Anything to declare?" repeated the official, with emphasis.
"Er," said Percival weakly--"nothing that you need worry about--only a few
presents."
"I'll have to trouble you for your keys, then," said the incorruptible.
Percival sighed dismally and produced them. Suddenly he noticed Gillow
declaring his baggage, and became so interested that he failed to perceive
that the official was in difficulties with the lock of his bag.
"This the right key, Sir?" demanded the latter at length.
"Oh, yes," said Percival absently. "But perhaps the bag isn't locked."
The bag wasn't. It opened easily, and the official plunged into a welter of
articles of personal use; but no parcels or dutiable goods came to light.
"P'raps you think it's a joke, wasting my time like this," snorted the
official indignantly. "All I can say is, it's an infernal bad one."
"Awf'lly sorry," said Percival sweetly, as his eye followed Gillow, who had
emerged unchallenged. "I must have forgotten to bring the parcels I spoke
about."
Smiling cheerfully, he directed the porter to place his bag by the side of
Gillow's in a Pullman, and took his seat with an expression of complete
content.
"How fares the master criminal?" asked Sparkes.
"A sympathetic friend took my troubles on his shoulders," said Percival,
"and got the parcels through with an effrontery which amazed me. I always
took him for an upright youth, too."
"Who was it?" asked Gillow.
"You! Didn't you notice you took my bag by mistake? But don't let it weigh
unduly on your conscience. Mine's clear anyway, and I feel that my troubles
are over."
But it was not till he got home and opened his own bag that he discovered a
quantity of broken glass, a pungent odour of whisky and Cologne water, a
discoloured parcel of lace and a box of sodden cigars.
"I was never meant for a smuggler," he groaned.
* * * * *
THE BOOK OF ADVENTURE.
Oh the glory of the trappers!
Oh to be as in this book,
Chasing things in furry wrappers,
Poking from their crevice-nook
Loudly though they squeak and grumble,
Squirrel fitch and Arctic cat
(_Editor:_ "I do not tumble;
Will you please explain this jumble?"
_Author:_ "I shall come to that").
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