I began an analysis of every event which entered into the total of the
mystery, seeking for some key which would aid me in assorting the tangled
bits that only needed to be arranged properly to bet the solution, much
as a jig-saw puzzle is worked out. If I had a proper beginning it would
all be easy enough.

The killing of the boatswain in the Flagship Bar seemed significant,
although I could not connect it with Meeker's plot against me, and I had
to lay that episode aside until I saw it in its proper relation to the
other parts.

Standing near the lamp, I wrote down on a scrap of paper each event in
its proper order, from my first sight of Meeker that morning as I arrived
at the mole from Saigon. When I had made a note of the delivery of the
letter to the Russian consul at the bank, I found Trego and Meeker
together--the spy disguised as a missionary seeking alms, and Trego
driving him out of the room.

It was obvious enough to me that in delivering the letter I had walked
into some sort of a plot of which I had no knowledge, for Meeker was not
only spying upon me, but he was spying upon Trego or the bank.

The next time that Trego entered the list was when I was introduced to
him in the bank, of little importance in itself, but worth a great deal
when connected with the fact that Trego left Manila in the _Kut Sang_
and in charge of the ship, to the amazement of even Captain Riggs.

"Trego killed." As I put that down it flashed upon me that he had been
struck down before he had told Captain Riggs why he had papers as
supercargo--and a few minutes after he had shown that he was suspicious
of Meeker!

I was baffled and realized that it was a waste of effort to attempt to
theorize about the snarled web in which I found myself enmeshed. One
thing was apparent enough, and that was Meeker did his best to keep me
out of the _Kut Sang_, as he said, and I reached the conclusion that it
was not me so much as the steamer which concerned him when he sought to
divert my path from the vessel. If I had taken his broad hints in Manila
I would have cancelled my ticket and probably never seen him again.

There was little comfort in proving that my own blunder had led me into
such a mess. I threw the pencil down and sat on the edge of the lower
berth. My anger was giving way to alarm. I began to realize that perhaps
being a prisoner was the safest for me while on the steamer, for if
Meeker had brought about the death of Trego