? She
recalled the ruthless ferocity with which he had broken up a street fight
between American and Japanese soldiers one afternoon in Vladivostok.
Supposing he had killed someone? But she had to repudiate this theory. No
officer in the United States Army could cover up anything like that.

"Come to the parlour," she said to Ling Foo, who was smiling and
kotowing.

Ling Foo picked up his blackwood box. Inwardly he was not at all pleased
at the prospect of having an outsider witness the little business
transaction he had in mind. Obliquely he studied the bronze mask. There
was no eagerness, no curiosity, no indifference. It struck Ling Foo that
there was something Oriental in this officer's repose. But five hundred
gold! Five hundred dollars in American gold--for a string of glass beads!

He set the blackwood box on a stand, opened it, and spread out jade
earrings, rings, fobs, bracelets, strings. The girl's eagerness caused
Ling Foo to sigh with relief. It would be easy.

"I warned you that I should not buy anything," said Jane, ruefully. "But
even if I had the money I would not buy this kind of a jade necklace. I
should want apple-green."

"Ah!" said Ling Foo, shocked with delight. "Perhaps we can make a bargain.
You have those glass beads I sold you this morning?"

"Yes, I am wearing them."

Jane took off her mink-fur collaret, which was sadly worn.

Ling Foo's hand went into his box again. From a piece of cotton cloth he
drew forth a necklace of apple-green jade, almost perfect.

"Oh, the lovely thing!" Jane seized the necklace. "To possess something
like this! Isn't it glorious, captain?"

"Let me see it." Dennison inspected the necklace carefully. "It is
genuine. Where did you get this?"

Ling Foo shrugged.

"Long ago, during the Boxer troubles, I bought it from a sailor."

"Ah, probably loot from the Peking palace. How much is it worth?"

Murder blazed up in Ling Foo's heart, but his face remained smilingly
bland.

"What I can get for it. But if the lady wishes I will give it to her in
exchange for the glass beads. I had no right to sell the beads," Ling Foo
went on with a deprecating gesture. "I thought the man who owned them
would never claim them. But he came this noon. Something belonging to his
ancestor--and he demands it."

"Trade them? Good heavens, yes! Of all things! Here!" Jane unclasped the
beads and thrust them toward Ling Foo's eager claw.

But Dennison reached out an intervening