I have never seen London, but I
am quite confident there is a city by that name. By the way,
fellows, if you'll wait a minute I'll show you something I put in
my bag. I saved it for a day just like this."
Rising from his seat Grant hastily sought his bag and in a brief
time rejoined his companions.
"What's the matter?" demanded John, as he saw an expression of
consternation on the face of his friend.
"Matter!" retorted Grant. "Matter enough. Somebody brought the
wrong bag."
"Let me see," said John, rising and examining the bag, which
Grant had placed on the seat near him. "That's not mine."
"It surely isn't mine," said George.
"I won't claim it either," added Fred as he glanced behind him.
"Well, it isn't mine," said Grant. "Somebody made a mistake at
the hotel this morning and instead of giving me what belonged to
me they have sent my bag off in some other direction and given me
a bag that belongs to some one else."
"Try your keys," suggested John. "Maybe it isn't as bad as you
think."
"The keys don't fit," declared Grant after he had tested them
all.
"Maybe there's a catch or a trick of some kind. Look again, Soc,
and see if there isn't some way to find out what there is inside
that bag. That's about the only way you can tell whose it is."
"I have been trying," retorted Grant sharply. "It's locked and I
haven't any key that will fit it.
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