ley through half-closed eyes.

"Nobody hab," she replied.

And I thought for once that her lapse into pidgin had been deliberate
and not accidental.

When finally we quitted the house of the missing Kwen Lung, and when,
Harley having curtly acknowledged "good night" from the detective on
duty, we came out into Limehouse Causeway.

"You have not overlooked the possibility, Harley," I said, "that this
woman's explanation may be true, and that the fireman of the Seahawk may
have been entertaining us with an account of a weird dream?"

"No!" snapped Harley--"neither will Scotland Yard overlook it."

He was in a particularly impossible mood, for he so rarely made mistakes
that to be detected in one invariably brought out those petulant traits
of character which may have been due in some measure to long residence
in the East. Recognizing that he would rather be alone I parted from
him at the corner of Chancery Lane and returned to my own chambers.
Furthermore, I was very tired, for it was close upon two o'clock, and on
turning in I very promptly went to sleep, nor did I awaken until late in
the morning.

For some odd reason, but possibly because the fact had occurred to me
just as I was retiring, I remembered at the moment of waking that I had
not told Harley about the romantic wedding of Captain Dan. As I had left
my friend in very ill humour I thought that this would be a good excuse
for an early call, and just before eleven o'clock I walked into his
office. Innes, his invaluable secretary, showed me into the study at the
back.

"Hallo, Knox," said Harley, looking up from a little silver Buddha which
he was examining, "have you come to ask for news of the Kwen Lung case?"

"No," I replied. "Is there any?"

Harley shook his head.

"It seems like fate," he declared, "that this thing should have been
sent to me this morning." He indicated the silver Buddha. "A present
from a friend who knows my weakness for Chinese ornaments," he explained
grimly. "It reminds me of that damned joss of Kwen Lung's!"

I took up the little image and examined it with interest. It was most
beautifully fashioned in the patient Oriental way, and there was a
little hinged door in the back which fitted so perfectly that when
closed it was quite impossible to detect its presence. I glanced at
Harley.

"I suppose you didn't find a jewel inside?" I said lightly.

"No," he replied; "there was nothing inside."

But even as he uttered the