they were there last autumn that potentate was very ill----"

"You mean----" said Major Vernon, looking up.

"I mean, Alan, that I like not the security. I won't say any more,
as there is a law of libel in this land. But _The Judge_ has certain
sources of information. It may be that no protest will be made at once,
for baksheesh can stop it for a while, but sooner or later the protest
or repudiation will come, and perhaps some international bother;
also much scandal. As to the scheme itself, it is shamelessly
over-capitalized for the benefit of the promoters--of whom, remember,
Alan, you will appear as one. Now time's up. Perhaps you will take my
advice, and perhaps you won't, but there it is for what it's worth as
that of a man of the world and an old friend of your family. As for your
puff article and your prospectus, I wouldn't put them in _The Judge_
if you paid me a thousand pounds, which I daresay your friend, Aylward,
would be quite ready to do. Good-bye. Come and see me again sometime,
and tell me what has happened--and, I say"--this last was shouted
through the closing door,--"give my kind regards to Miss Barbara, for
wherever she happens to live, she is an honest woman."

CHAPTER II

THE YELLOW GOD

Alan Vernon walked thoughtfully down the lead-covered stairs, hustled
by eager gentlemen hurrying up to see the great editor, whose bell
was already ringing furiously, and was duly ushered by the obsequious
assistant-chauffeur back into the luxurious motor. There was an electric
lamp in this motor, and by the light of it, his mind being perplexed,
he began to read the typewritten document given to him by Mr. Jackson,
which he still held in his hand.

As it chanced they were blocked for a quarter of an hour near the
Mansion House, so that he found time, if not to master it, at least to
gather enough of its contents to make him open his brown eyes very wide
before the motor pulled up at the granite doorway of his office. Alan
descended from the machine, which departed silently, and stood for a
moment wondering what he should do. His impulse was to jump into a bus
and go straight to his rooms or his club, to which Sir Robert did not
belong, but being no coward, he dismissed it from his mind.

His fate hung in the balance, of that he was well aware. Either he must
disregard Mr. Jackson's warning, confirmed as it was by many secret
fears and instincts of his own, and say nothing except that he had
failed in