Sandy shot Ken one startled glance. He picked the box up and hefted it in his hands, as if he might be a better judge of its weight than the scales could be. Then he put it slowly down again.
“How could it not be the same box?” he demanded. “When could a substitution have been made?”
“At Sam’s,” Ken said quietly.
“You mean you think Sam would—?”
“No, of course not,” Ken interrupted. “But whoever wanted the box—wanted the real one, I mean—found out that we had taken it there for repairs, and when we would come back for it.”
“This imaginary character you’re talking about must have a crystal ball,” Sandy said scathingly.
Ken shook his head. “Just a broken watch crystal.” Sandy stared at him unbelievingly, but Ken went on. “What could have been simpler than breaking a watch crystal, if s
