cover some
evidence here. So I got in by the window, saw the body of the Jap, an'
called my friend."

"Some one hire you to hunt up evidence?" the officer wanted to know
with heavy sarcasm.

"I hired myself. My good name is involved. I'm goin' to see the
murderer is brought to justice."

"You are, eh?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'll say you could find him if anybody could."

"You're entitled to your opinion, sergeant, just as I am to mine, but
before we're through with this case you'll have to admit you've been
wrong."

Lane turned to his friend. "We'll go now, Cole, if you're ready."

The sergeant glared at this cool customer who refused to be appalled at
the position in which he stood. He had half a mind to arrest the man
again on the spot, but he was not sure enough of his ground. Not very
long since he had missed a promotion by being overzealous. He did not
want to make the same mistake twice.

The Wyoming men walked across to Seventeenth Street and down it to the
Equitable Building. James Cunningham was in his office.

He looked up as they entered, a cold smile on his lips.

"Ah, my energetic cousin," he said, with his habitual touch of irony.
"What's in the wind now?"

Kirby told him. Instantly James became grave. His irony vanished. In
his face was a flicker almost of consternation at this follow-up
murder. He might have been asking himself how much more trouble was
coming.

"We'll get the writing translated. You have it with you?" he said.

His eyes ran over the pages Lane handed him. "I know a Jap we can get
to read it for us, a reliable man, one who won't talk if we ask him not
to."

The broker's desk buzzer rang. He talked for a moment over the
telephone, then hung up again.

"Sorry," Cunningham said, "I'm going to be busy for an hour or two.
Going to lunch with Miss Phyllis Harriman. She was Uncle James's
fiancee, perhaps you know. There are some affairs of the estate to be
arranged. I wonder if you could come back later this afternoon. Say
about four o'clock. We'll take up then the business of the
translation. I'll get in touch with a Japanese in the meantime."

"Suits me. Shall I leave the writing here?"

"Yes, if you will. Doesn't matter, of course, but since we have it
I'll put it in the safe."

"How's the arm?" Kirby asked, glancing at the sling his cousin wore.

"Only sprained. The doctor thinks I must have twisted it badly as I
fell. I couldn't sleep a wink a