n 'R'?"

"How do I know?" growled the criminal. "I can't spell. Her name was
Odette."

"Rider?" said the other eagerly.

"That's her. She used to be cashier in Lyne's Store."

"Now, just quieten yourself down and tell me all Lyne told you about her,
will you, my lad?"

Sam Stay stared at him, and then a slow look of cunning passed over his
face.

"If it was her!" he breathed. "If I could only put her away for it!"

Nothing better illustrated the mentality of this man than the fact that
the thought of "shopping" the girl had not occurred to him before. That
was the idea, a splendid idea! Again his lips curled back, and he eyed
the detective with a queer little smile.

"All right, sir," he said. "I'll tell the head-split. I'm not going to
tell you."

"That's as it ought to be, Sam," said the detective genially. "You can
tell Mr. Tarling or Mr. Whiteside and they'll make it worth your while."

The detective called a cab and together they drove, not to Scotland Yard,
but to Tarling's little office in Bond Street. It was here that the man
from Shanghai had established his detective agency, and here he waited
with the phlegmatic Whiteside for the return of the detective he had sent
to withdraw Sam Stay from his shadower.

The man shuffled into the room, looked resentfully from one to the other,
nodded to both, and declined the chair which was pushed forward for him.
His head was throbbing in an unaccountable way, as it had never throbbed
before. There were curious buzzes and noises in his ears. It was strange
that he had not noticed this until he came into the quiet room, to meet
the grave eyes of a hard-faced man, whom he did not remember having seen
before.

"Now, Stay," said Whiteside, whom at least the criminal recognised, "we
want to hear what you know about this murder."

Stay pressed his lips together and made no reply.

"Sit down," said Tarling, and this time the man obeyed. "Now, my lad,"
Tarling went on--and when he was in a persuasive mood his voice was
silky--"they tell me that you were a friend of Mr. Lyne's."

Sam nodded.

"He was good to you, was he not?"

"Good?" The man drew a deep breath. "I'd have given my heart and soul to
save him from a minute's pain, I would, sir! I'm telling you straight,
and may I be struck dead if I'm lying! He was an angel on earth--my God,
if ever I lay me hands on that woman, I'll strangle her. I'll put her
out! I'll not leave her till she's torn to rags!"