orders were explicit; Mr. Smatt would see Dr.
Ichi without delay or preliminary, whenever Dr. Ichi favored the office
with a visit. It was already the third visit that day, but orders were
orders.

So, Martin inclined his head toward the door of Smatt's private office.
The Japanese crossed the room. He bowed to Martin, as stately a bow as
if Martin were also an "honorable," instead of a poor devil of a law
clerk; then, noiselessly as he had entered the outer office, Dr. Ichi
disappeared within Smatt's sanctum.

Martin turned to his window again. But his bright day dream was fled,
and he could not conjure it back again. The view was without charm.
His thoughts, despite himself, persisted in centering upon the dapper
little figure now closeted with his employer. The dandified Jap
aroused Martin's interest.

What manner of client was this Dr. Ichi? Martin had not seen a single
scrap of paper, nor had Smatt dropped a single hint, concerning the
case. It was mysterious! Martin was not an overly curious chap, but
he was human.

It was another of Smatt's secret cases, thought Martin. Another token
of those hidden activities of the old vulture, which he sensed, but did
not know about. For, though Martin attended to the routine work,
though his duties were responsible--Smatt specialized and was prominent
in maritime law--still Martin knew he did not enjoy his employer's
complete confidence.

Much of Smatt's time was taken up with cases Martin knew nothing about,
with clients who appeared to shun the daylight of the courts. The
Nippon Trading Company, for instance! Martin knew Smatt was interested
in a company of that name--a strange company, that apparently conducted
business without using the mails. And there was business between Ichi
and Smatt--money, or Smatt would have nothing to do with it. The
mystery aroused Martin's dormant curiosity.

But all his speculation was pointless. Martin bethought himself of the
marine affidavit lying uncompleted upon his desk. He turned from the
window with the intention of applying himself to that task--and he
discovered the office to have a second visitor. Another unusual figure
who possessed the penchant for surreptitious entry. He observed the
fellow in the very act of closing the office door.

"Say, you! Didn't you see the sign on the door, 'Please Knock'?"
exclaimed Martin. "Can't you read English?"

"I'm no knocker, I'm a booster. Besides I don't believe