e read that his flight had brought suspicion on him.
He wanted to give himself up at once to the police. They quarreled.
Shibo always gained the temporary advantage, but he saw that under a
grilling third degree his countryman would break down. He killed
Horikawa because he knew he could not trust him.

This last fact was not, of course, in Horikawa's confession. But the
dread of it was there. The valet had come to fear Shibo. He was
convinced in his shrinking heart that the man meant to get rid of him.
It was under some impulse of self-protection that he had written the
statement.

Shibo heard the confession read without the twitching of a facial
muscle. He shrugged his shoulders, accepting the inevitable with the
fatalism of his race.

"He weak. He no good. He got yellow streak. I bossum," was his
comment.

"Did you kill him?" asked the Chief.

"I killum both--Cunnin'lam and Horikawa. You kill me now maybe yes."

Officers led him away.

Phyllis Cunningham came up to Kirby and offered him her hand. "You're
hard on James. I don't know why you're so hard. But you've cleared us
all. I say thanks awf'ly for that. I've been horribly frightened.
That's the truth. It seemed as though there wasn't any way out for us.
Come and see us and let's all make up, Cousin Kirby."

Kirby did not say he would. But he gave her his strong grip and
friendly smile. Just then his face did not look hard. He could not
tell her why he had held his cousin on the grill so long, that it had
been in punishment for what he had done to a defenseless friend of his
in the name of love. What he did say suited her perhaps as well.

"I like you better right now than I ever did before, Cousin Phyllis.
You're a good little sport an' you'll do to ride the river with."

Jack could not quite let matters stand as they did. He called on Kirby
that evening at his hotel.

"It's about James I want to see you," he said, then stuck for lack of
words with which to clothe his idea. He prodded at the rug with the
point of his cane.

"Yes, about James," Kirby presently reminded him, smiling.

"He's not so bad as you think he is," Jack blurted out.

"He's as selfish as the devil, isn't he?"

"Well, he is, and he isn't. He's got a generous streak in him. You
may not believe it, but he went on your bond because he liked you."

"Come, Jack, you're tryin' to seduce my judgment by the personal
appeal," Kirby answered, laughing.

"I k