the Germans are good imitators."

"Isn't she English?" asked Yerkes.

"Her trade's international," said Monty dryly. "My guess is that
Coutlass or Hassan told her what we're supposed to be doing here, and
she pretends to know where the ivory is in order to trap us all in some
way. The net's spread for me, but there's no objection to catching you
fellows as well."

"She'll need to use sweeter bait than I've seen yet!" laughed Yerkes.

"She'll probably be sweetness itself next time she sees you. She'll
argue she's created an impression and can afford to be gracious."

"Impression is good!" said Yerkes. "I mean it's bad! She has created
one, all right! What's the likelihood of her having double-crossed the
Germans? Mightn't she have got a clue to where the stuff is, and be
holding for a better market than they offer?"

"I was coming to that," said Monty. "Yes, it's possible. But whatever
her game is, don't let us play it for her. Let her do the leading. If
she gets hold of you fellows, one at a time or all together, for the
love of heaven tell her nothing! Let her tell all she likes, but admit
nothing--tell nothing--ask no questions! That's an old rule in
diplomacy (and remember, she's a diplomat, whatever else she may be!)
Old-stagers can divine the Young ones' secrets from the nature of the
questions they ask! So if you got the chance, ask her nothing! Don't
lie, either! It would take a very old hand to lie to her in such way
that she couldn't see through it!"

"Why not be simply rude and turn our backs?" said I.

"Best of all--provided you can do it! Remember, she's an old hand!"

"D'you mean," said Yerkes, "that if she were to offer proof that she
knows where that ivory is, and proposed terms, you wouldn't talk it
over?"

"I mean let her alone!" said Monty.

But it turned out she would not be let alone. We dine in the public
room, but she had her meals sent up to her and we flattered ourselves
(or I did) that her net had been laid in vain. Folk dine late in the
tropics, and we dallied over coffee and cigars, so that it was going on
for ten o'clock when Yerkes and I started upstairs again. Monty and
Fred went out to see the waterfront by moonlight.

We had reached our door (he and I shared one great room) when we heard
terrific screams from the floor above--a woman's--one after another,
piercing, fearful, hair-raising, and so suggestive in that gloomy, grim
building that a man's very bloo