toward those
who had indulged in the mirth.

King had a nasty temper that grew worse with his indulgence in drink,
and it was clear that he had been indulging and intended to continue.

"I said I was--_golfing_," he went on, exceedingly distinctly, though
with an effort. "And now, Cat," and he nodded patronizingly to the
white-aproned and respectful bartender, "will you be kind enough to see
what my friends will be pleased to order that they may pour out a
libation to--let us say Polonius!"

"Why Polonius?" some one asked.

"Because, dear friend," replied King softly, "he somewhat resembles a
certain person here, who talks too much, but who is not so wise as he
thinks. And now--" he raised his glass--"to all the gods that on
Olympus dwell!"

And they drank with him.

Nodding and smiling at his friends, who thronged about him, standing
under the gay lights which reflected from costly oil paintings, Harry
King plunged his hand into his pocket to pay the bill, a check for
which the bartender had thrust toward him.

"Gad, but he's got a wad!" somebody whispered, as King pulled forth a
great roll of bills, together with a number of gold and silver coins.

There was a rattle of coins on the mahogany bar as King sought to
disentangle a single bill from the wadded-up currency in his pocket.

Some coins fell to the floor and rolled in the direction of the table
whereat sat the colonel and Mr. Kettridge. The latter, with a pitying
smile on his face, leaned over to pick them up. As he did so, and
brought a piece of money up into the light, a curious look came over
his face. He stared at the coin.

"What is it?" asked Colonel Ashley, noting the unusual look.

"It's--it's an odd coin--an old Roman one--that Mrs. Darcy had in her
private collection, kept in the jewelry store safe," was the whispered
answer. "I went over them the other day and noticed some were missing,
though I saw them all when I paid a visit to her just a short time
before she was killed."

"Was this odd coin in her collection?" asked the colonel, as he looked
at the piece which Kettridge handed him. It was of considerable value
to a collector.

"That was hers," went on the jeweler. "It must have been taken from
her safe, for she had refused many offers to sell it. And now--"

"Now Harry King has it!" exclaimed Colonel Ashley. "I think this will
bear looking into!"

CHAPTER XIII

SINGA PHUT

Mr. Kettridge, his eyes big with un