The elevator door opened. Sergeant O’Neal stepped out with his dog, trained to sniff out explosives. They headed straight to Sheriff Tate’s office and entered.

“Good morning Sheriff, said O’Neal.

“Good day O’Neal, I hope you’re bringing good news this time,” said the sheriff.

“I’m afraid it’s not so good, Sheriff,” said O’Neal, “We’ve searched every day for a blessed week now, and we aint found nothin’.”

”Nothing?”

“No sir. Mike and Tom have had the two other dogs out and we’ve covered every inch of the terminal.”

“Did the other dogs sniff out the areas where your dog had been?”

“Yes sir.”

“Did your dog sniff out everywhere the others had been?”

“Yes sir.”

“And none of you ever found anything?” said Sheriff Tate, becoming a bit irritated. The sheriff was ordinarily a mild mannered man and slow to anger, but his face had become flushed.

“The dogs found a few benign things like someone’s unfinished lunch, and a dirty diaper,” said O’Neal.

“My god, it’s a hell of a note when you can’t find an explosive you know is there. It’s not like some nut called in a false report. Try one more time, O’Neal. That’s all. This damned test is going drive me crazy. Get me Airport Security on the phone,” Sheriff Tate said.

Later the same day two airport security guards, Joe and Charlie, showed up at the sheriff’s office. They entered the office not knowing why they had been summoned.

“Hello Sheriff,” they both said.

“Hello men. Sit down. You know we’re running a test case on our ability to recover bombs that could be planted in the airport. So far we’re not doing so well. Are you the men who were assigned to plant a small box of explosive material in the terminal?” the sheriff said.

“Yes sir,” said Joe. “We were the ones. That was a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did you get the job done?”

“We sure did,” said Joe.

"We need to know where you put it,” said the sheriff, “The dogs are having trouble finding it.”

“Do you know where we put it, Charlie? I don’t remember,” said Joe.

"I don’t either,” said Charlie, “We looked at so many places trying to guess where a bomber would hide it.”

“Yeah, the day we had the box I got three or four calls to remove unattended packages,” said Joe.

“You don’t remember? Whatcha mean you don’t remember? Have you looked anywhere you may have left it?” said the sheriff.

“I’ve looked where I thought it was; wanted to see if it was still there. I never found it; figured I forgot where it was, or maybe Joe moved it,” Charlie said.

“Why didn’t you write a note to remind yourself of where you put it?” said the sheriff.

“Didn’t think it was important. Knew the dogs would find it,” Said Charlie.

“Not important! You forgot where it is, and the dogs can’t find it. It’s a goddamned mess. For all I or anybody else knows it might have been mistaken for baggage and put on an airplane. It’s no telling where it is by now,” the sheriff said with disgust.

“Well, one good thing about it, there ‘s no detonator in the box to set it off,” said Joe with a grin.

“Thank God for little favors; maybe it could be worse,” said the sheriff.

So far as anyone, anywhere has heard, the whereabouts of the box of explosives is still unknown. Any information concerning the box should be given to your local police.

Footnote: This is a true story, I think. The names have been changed to protect the guilty.