en expecting him, even watching for him. Convinced of this, he
gave him one of Conniston's cards and said,

"Take this to Shan Tung. He is expecting me."

Li King looked at the card, studied it for a moment with apparent
stupidity, and shook his head. "Shan Tung no home. Gone away."

That was all. Where he had gone or when he would return Keith could not
discover from Li King. Of all other matters except that he had gone
away the manager of Shan Tung's affairs was ignorant. Keith felt like
taking the yellow-skinned hypocrite by the throat and choking something
out of him, but he realized that Li King was studying and watching him,
and that he would report to Shan Tung every expression that had passed
over his face. So he looked at his watch, bought a cigar at the glass
case near the cash register, and departed with a cheerful nod, saying
that he would call again.

Ten minutes later he determined on a bold stroke. There was no time for
indecision or compromise. He must find Shan Tung and find him quickly.
And he believed that Miriam Kirkstone could give him a pretty good tip
as to his whereabouts. He steeled himself to the demand he was about to
make as he strode up to the house on the hill. He was disappointed
again. Miss Kirkstone was not at home. If she was, she did not answer
to his knocking and bell ringing.

He went to the depot. No one he questioned had seen Shan Tung at the
west-bound train, the only train that had gone out that morning, and
the agent emphatically disclaimed selling him a ticket. Therefore he
had not gone far. Suspicion leaped red in Keith's brain. His
imagination pictured Shan Tung at that moment with Miriam Kirkstone,
and at the thought his disgust went out against them both. In this
humor he returned to McDowell's office. He stood before his chief,
leaning toward him over the desk table. This time he was the inquisitor.

"Plainly speaking, this liaison is their business," he declared.
"Because he is yellow and she is white doesn't make it ours. I've just
had a hunch. And I believe in following hunches, especially when one
hits you good and hard, and this one has given me a jolt that means
something. Where is that big fat brother of hers?"

McDowell hesitated. "It isn't a liaison," he temporized. "It's
one-sided--a crime against--"

"WHERE IS THAT BIG FAT BROTHER?" With each word Keith emphasized his
demand with a thud of his fist on the table. "WHERE IS HE?"

McDowell was deeply pert