s a tang in the air which
brought the colour to the cheek and light to the eye of the patient
Londoner.

Tarling stretched his arms and yawned in the sheer luxury of living,
before he took down his silk dressing-gown and went in to the breakfast
which Ling Chu had laid for him.

The blue-bloused Chinaman who stood behind his master's chair, poured out
the tea and laid a newspaper on one side of the plate and letters on the
other. Tarling ate his breakfast in silence and pushed away the plate.

"Ling Chu," he said in the vernacular of Lower China, "I shall lose my
name as the Man Hunter, for this case puzzles me beyond any other."

"Master," said the Chinaman in the same language, "there is a time in all
cases, when the hunter feels that he must stop and weep. I myself had
this feeling when I hunted down Wu Fung, the strangler of Hankow. Yet,"
he added philosophically, "one day I found him and he is sleeping on the
Terrace of Night."

He employed the beautiful Chinese simile for death.

"Yesterday I found the little-young-woman," said Tarling after a pause.
In this quaint way did he refer to Odette Rider.

"You may find the little-young-woman and yet not find the killer," said
Ling Chu, standing by the side of the table, his hands respectfully
hidden under his sleeves. "For the little-young-woman did not kill the
white-faced man."

"How do you know?" asked Tarling; and the Chinaman shook his head.

"The little-young-woman has no strength, master," he said. "Also it is
not known that she has skill in the driving of the quick cart."

"You mean the motor?" asked Tarling quickly, and Ling Chu nodded.

"By Jove! I never thought of that," said Tarling. "Of course, whoever
killed Thornton Lyne must have put his body in the car and driven him to
the Park. But how do you know that she does not drive?"

"Because I have asked," said the Chinaman simply. "Many people know the
little-young-woman at the great Stores where the white-faced man lived,
and they all say that she does not drive the quick cart."

Tarling considered for a while.

"Yes, it is true talk," he said. "The little-young-woman did not kill the
white-faced man, because she was many miles away when the murder was
committed. That we know. The question is, who did?"

"The Hunter of Men will discover," said Ling Chu

"I wonder," said Tarling.

He dressed and went to Scotland Yard. He had an appointment with
Whiteside, and later intended accompanying Od