that they
might have proceeded from some gnome's workshop deep in the bowels
of the earth. The blows of a pile-driver at work on the Surrey shore
suggested to Kerry's mind the phantom crew of Hendrick Hudson at their
game of ninepins in the Katskill Mountains. Suddenly:

"Is that you, Bryce?" he asked.

"I'm here, sir," replied the voice of the constable from beside him.

"H'm, then there's someone else about." He raised his voice. "Hi, there!
have you lost your way?"

Kerry stood still, listening. But no one answered to his call.

"I'll swear there was someone just behind us, Bryce!"

"There was, sir. I saw someone, too. A Chinese resident, probably. Here
we are!"

A sound of banging became audible, and on advancing another two paces,
Kerry found himself beside Bryce before a low closed door.

"Hello! hello!" croaked a dim voice. "Number one p'lice chop, lo! Sin
Sin Wa!"

The flat note of a police whistle followed.

"Sin Sin is at home," declared Bryce. "That's the raven."

"Does he take the thing about with him, then?"

"I don't think so. But he puts it in a cupboard when he goes out, and it
never talks unless it can see a light."

Bolts were unfastened and the door was opened. Out through the moving
curtain of fog shone the red glow from a stove. A grotesque silhouette
appeared outlined upon the dim redness.

"You wantchee me?" crooned Sin Sin Wa.

"I do!" rapped Kerry. "I've called to look for opium."

He stepped past the Chinaman into the dimly lighted room. As he did so,
the cause of an apparent deformity which had characterized the outline
of Sin Sin Wa became apparent. From his left shoulder the raven partly
arose, moving his big wings, and:

"Smartest leg!" it shrieked in Kerry's ear and rattled imaginary
castanets.

The Chief Inspector started, involuntarily.

"Damn the thing!" he muttered. "Come in, Bryce, and shut the door.
What's this?"

On a tea-chest set beside the glowing stove, the little door of which
was open, stood a highly polished squat wooden image, gilded and colored
red and green. It was that of a leering Chinaman, possibly designed to
represent Buddha, and its jade eyes seemed to blink knowingly in the
dancing rays from the stove.

"Sin Sin Wa's Joss," murmured the proprietor, as Bryce closed the outer
door. "Me shinee him up; makee Joss glad. Number one piecee Joss."

Kerry turned and stared into the pock-marked smiling face. Seen in that
dim light it was not unlik