Lyne were unwinking and
expressionless. That was the first impression which Lyne received.

He took Lyne's hand in his--it was as soft as a woman's. As they shook
hands Lyne noticed a third figure in the room. He was below middle height
and sat in the shadow thrown by a wall pillar. He too rose, but bowed his
head.

"A Chinaman, eh?" said Lyne, looking at this unexpected apparition with
curiosity. "Oh, of course, Mr. Tarling, I had almost forgotten that
you've almost come straight from China. Won't you sit down?"

He followed the other's example, threw himself into a chair and offered
his cigarette case.

"The work I am going to ask you to do I will discuss later," he said.
"But I must explain, that I was partly attracted to you by the
description I read in one of the newspapers of how you had recovered the
Duchess of Henley's jewels and partly by the stories I heard of you when
I was in China. You're not attached to Scotland Yard, I understand?"

Tarling shook his head.

"No," he said quietly. "I was regularly attached to the police in
Shanghai, and I had intended joining up with Scotland Yard; in fact, I
came over for that purpose. But several things happened which made me
open my own detective agency, the most important of which happenings, was
that Scotland Yard refused to give me the free hand I require!"

The other nodded quickly.

China rang with the achievements of Jack Oliver Tarling, or, as the
Chinese criminal world had named him in parody of his name, "Lieh Jen,"
"The Hunter of Men."

Lyne judged all people by his own standard, and saw in this unemotional
man a possible tool, and in all probability a likely accomplice.

The detective force in Shanghai did curious things by all accounts, and
were not too scrupulous as to whether they kept within the strict letter
of the law. There were even rumours that "The Hunter of Men" was not
above torturing his prisoners, if by so doing he could elicit confessions
which could implicate some greater criminal. Lyne did not and could not
know all the legends which had grown around the name of "The Hunter" nor
could he be expected in reason to differentiate between the truth and the
false.

"I pretty well know why you've sent for me," Tarling went on. He spoke
slowly and had a decided drawl. "You gave me a rough outline in your
letter. You suspect a member of your staff of having consistently robbed
the firm for many years. A Mr. Milburgh, your chief departmen