"Your husband adopted the policy of the ostrich, Helena," said Forbes, grimly. "It may or may not be a fable as regards ostriches— I don't know enough about them to feel certain, but it is unquestionably too often true of mankind. I believed my head was hidden and imagined the remainder of my body was safe in consequence. Now I learn that my opponents have been tracking me steadily for half a year. The one fact which stands out clearly above all others during the past forty-eight hours is the phenomenal range and completeness of Wong Li Fu's plans."

"I didn't mean my comment as a reproach, dear," and Mrs. Forbes gave him a look which told plainly that these two were lovers after many years of wedded happiness. "Thank God, we have all escaped— thus far!"

"Oh, mother," laughed Evelyn nervously, "you are not anticipating more horrors, are you?"

"A few hours ago I would have scoffed at any one who said that a handful of Chinese could tear aside our cloak of civilized security as though it were a spider's web," was the serious reply. "But I have interrupted my own story. I began to think that I would be taken to some awful den in the East End, and held there till some huge sum of money was paid by way of ransom, when the car suddenly quitted the main road and bumped over a rough surface. I knew I was near Croydon— the last place I would have suspected as a brigands' stronghold. Then we halted, and that wretched man lifted me out, carried me into a back room of an old-fashioned house, put me in a fairly comfortable chair, tied me in with ropes, and left me. I couldn't speak. I was looking at a blank wall and smoke-stained ceiling. I was sure then that he was after money, and began to calculate the time which must elapse before my husband would hear from him and arrange for my release. I wondered how much he would ask— ten, twenty, fifty thousand pounds. How much would you have paid, Jim?"

Mrs. Forbes took her trials so cheerfully that they all laughed.

"That's hardly a fair question, is it?" she continued, stealing another glance at her husband. "At any rate, being a banker's wife, I knew how extraordinarily difficult it would be to raise any considerable sum of gold at such a late hour, and I resigned myself to remaining a prisoner all night. Then I think I wept a little, but not for long, because I felt that they meant to keep me alive, and as I look more delicate than I really am, even a Chinaman would see that he was taking some risk by denying me food and all liberty of movement. Then— very soon, it seemed— I heard an outer door being forced off its hinges and English voices, and the door of my room was broken open, and I saw a police inspector and some constables. Hitherto I have never properly appreciated our policemen. From this day I become their most ardent admirer and enthusiastic helper. I could have gone down on my knees to those big, kind-looking men in uniform. In fact I nearly did. When they released me I could hardly stand. After that, Mr. Handyside came, and accompanied me here, with a detective sitting next the driver, and my husband and Evelyn have told me something of the extraordinary things which have been going on in London while I was gadding about at Eastbourne."

"Was the detective a man named Furneaux?" inquired Theydon.

Mrs. Forbes hesitated, and her husband answered for her, as he alone, among the members of the household, had met the Jersey man.

"No," he said. "He belonged to the Croydon force, and was sent as an escort. Furneaux seems to have been swallowed alive since three o'clock. Everybody is inquiring for him, and no one appears to know anything about him."

"I wonder whether Wong Li Fu is aware I have been liberated?" said Mrs. Forbes. "It's rather odd, is it not, that nothing has been heard from him or his gang if I was to be held a prisoner in order to extort terms?"

"I fancy he meant to add significance to his demand for a reply by advertisement in tomorrow's Times," said Forbes. "You see, Helena, he meant to carry off Evelyn as well as you."

Mrs. Forbes smiled again at that.

"What in the world should each of us have thought if we had both been bound and gagged in that car?" she cried.

"I know what I think," said her husband emphatically. "You are going straight to bed now, and you'll take ten grains of bromide before lying down. Evelyn, I appoint you nurse. Don't leave your mother till she is sound asleep."

Mrs. Forbes rose at once. She admitted, though reluctantly, that a night's rest was necessary to steady her nerves.

"Ah!" she sighed, "I shall be so glad when all this turmoil is ended, and we are settled for the season in Sutherland."

"Sutherland, ma'am," inquired Handyside. "Isn't that in the far north of Scotland?"

"Yes."

"It would be, just as the North Foreland is in Kent."

Theydon explained his friend's theory of geographical names in the British Isles, and on that lightly humorous note the ladies disappeared. When they were gone Forbes quickly gave a sinister turn to their talk. He produced a letter from his pocket.

"Listen to this," he said.

"Y. M. is pleased to inform James Creighton Forbes that Mrs. Forbes is a prisoner, and will remain, without food or drink and unable to move, in an empty house until Y. M.'s demands are granted."

His face was white with fury while he read, and his fingers moved convulsively as if he could feel them twining around Wong Li Fu's throat. The other men maintained a sympathetic silence. They understood why that ghastly message had been withheld from the cognizance of the lady who had just quitted them.

"It was delivered by a messenger boy shortly before you arrived, Theydon," said Forbes, when his passion had subsided and he could trust his voice again.

"Have you informed Scotland Yard?" said Theydon.

"No. I dared not use the telephone. I could not leave my wife. She is far more shaken than she thinks. Ever since her return she has followed me if I even walked across the room. It was pitiful. I had to lie to her when the butler brought this infernal note. She saw it was typed, and believed my explanation that it was a mere record of an office cablegram."

"Give it to me," said Theydon. "Mr. Handyside and I must leave you now. We'll take it to Scotland Yard. Mr. Winter ought to know of it. In all likelihood he is arranging to remain in the Croydon house tonight, and, if Wong Li Fu is telling the truth, which is highly probable, the local police can watch the place adequately."

"Yes. You're right, of course. I should have seen that an hour ago, but my brain is on fire owing to the torture these fiends have devised."

"Are you quite safe here? It is an absurd question, but I would like to feel assured on that point. Shall I return, and strengthen your guard?"

"I'm exceedingly obliged to you, but, in addition to two of my servants, thoroughly trustworthy men, a detective sergeant and constable have come from Scotland Yard. They are now having supper. When the household retires for the night two will remain in this room, with the door open, and two in the butler's room, which commands the other staircase. Moreover a constable will patrol this side of the square, and a second one the back of the premises, until long after daybreak."

"Tell you what," said Handyside, when he and Theydon were in a taxi, and had made certain they were not being followed, "tell you what, son, you've struck a bonanza in this Chinese drama."

"What do you mean?" said Theydon.

"Well, I guess you're the curly-haired boy where Miss Evelyn is concerned."

"Like most Americans, you jump at conclusions," was the ungracious reply.

"And, like most Americans, I'm right nearly all the time," said Handyside dryly.

"Surely one can hardly discuss such a matter."

"Why not? If a proposition sounds hard, chew on it, and may be you'll get your teeth into it somehow."

Theydon nearly allowed himself to become angry. Was his hopeless admiration for Evelyn Forbes so patent that a sharp-eyed stranger could discern it after a brief hour in their company?

"Millionaires' daughters marry poor men only in novels and on the stage," he said bitterly. "In real life, and in England, they take unto themselves titles and landed estates."

"I guess Wong Li Fu will have to round you up some more," was the cryptic answer, and Handyside forthwith plunged airily into some wholly different topic.

At Scotland Yard they inquired for Furneaux, and were told he had not reported at headquarters since the early afternoon. So Theydon was introduced to another representative of the department, and handed over the typed note; the detective promised that its purport should be telephoned to Croydon without delay.

When the two reached the Embankment again, Theydon felt unaccountably tired, and was minded to take leave of his companion then and there. But Handyside placed an unerring finger on the cause of his weariness.

"Say, Mr. Theydon," he cried, "I don't know what food product arrangements you've made all day, but I couldn't have eaten less since breakfast if Wong Li Fu was sitting over me with a pistol. How about a square meal? Come to my hotel, and I'll start the chef on a nice little menoo while we're having a wash and a brush up."

"By Jove! Now I know what is the matter with me," was the astonishing answer. "I have lunched and dined on a cup of tea at Eastbourne."

"Guess I'm fifteen years older than you, so I knew my trouble all the time. Those people in Fortescue Square were so rattled that they never thought of asking us to eat. Come right along. It's only a step."

"I'll come with pleasure. I owe you some money, too, which I was nearly forgetting."

"What do you owe for?"

"Railway tickets, and taxis, and motor-cycles, to begin with."

"No, sir," said the American decisively. "I've had the cheapest day's amusement I've ever dreamed of. On balance I owe you one sovereign. As for those half-tickets from Eastbourne I wouldn't sell them for dollars and cents. When I get back to my home, 21,097 Park Avenue, Chicago, I'll have those bits of cardboard framed, and when some particular friend asks the reason I'll tell him, suppressing names of course, and he'll go away thinking that George T. Handyside is the biggest liar in the State of Illinois, which is some pumpkin, you bet."

"What beats me," rejoined Theydon, "is how you remember where you live. You must have a marvelous head for figures."

So they dined well, and wined moderately, and Theydon walked to Innesmore Mansions, thinking of little else in the world except of the moment when he held Evelyn Forbes in his arms, almost in an embrace, and he had dared, nearly, if not quite, to kiss her.

As he drew near Innesmore Mansions, however, be kept his wits about him. One of the most remarkable features of a series of remarkable crimes was the thorough command of the resources of civilization exhibited by the Young Manchus. A few days earlier he would not have dared to introduce into a story of his own an association composed exclusively of Chinamen which adapted to its needs the motor car, the messenger boy, perhaps the telephone and telegraph, to say nothing of the advertising columns of the daily press.

It was monstrous to imagine that a number of Orientals— marked men, every one, no matter what disguises they might adopt— should dare bid defiance to the forces of the British Constitution in order that they might wreak vengeance on those more enlightened compatriots who wished to see their country rescued from the effete control of a puppet Emperor.

But Theydon was now some days older and many degrees wiser. He knew that the wildly improbable had become dogged fact, that Chinese fanaticism, tigerish in its crafty and utter cold-bloodedness, was setting at naught not only the ordinances of the law, but the brightest intellects whose duty it was to make that law respected.

It behooved him, therefore, to lend a sharp eye to his own safety, and never a vehicle or pedestrian came near while he traversed the quiet streets in the neighborhood of Innesmore Mansions that he did not give the closest attention to cab or wayfarer, as the case might be.

As it happened, that quarter of London was singularly deserted. The first flight of people homeward-bound from the theaters was well over; the later contingent, supping in restaurants, had not begun to arrive. Save for the slow-moving figure of a policeman the long front of the mansions themselves was devoid of life.

Nevertheless, it was with a feeling of relief that he turned the key in the lock of No. 18, and heard the scraping of a chair on the kitchen floor as Bates rose to meet him.

"Hello, Bates!" he cried wearily, "here I am again, you see! Anything new or interesting during my absence?"

"Mrs. Paxton—" began the valet, stopping when his master uttered a sharp exclamation. Theydon had completely forgotten Miss Beale and his sister.

"Yes," he said. "Sorry I interrupted you. What of Mrs. Paxton?"

"I saw her, sir, as you ordered, and she promised to call on Miss Beale. She kem here about an hour ago—"

"Who? My sister?"

"Yes, sir. She was anxious to see you. From what I could gather, sir, the two ladies had bin puttin' their heads together, and agreed that this Chinese business has a nasty look, an' you'd better keep out of it."

"What Chinese business, Bates?"

"Well, sir, Miss Beale will 'ave it that Mrs. Lester was killed by a Chinaman, an' one of the police on duty in this district told me a little while ago that he saw no less than three Chinamen prowlin' round here last Monday between dusk and dark."

Theydon drew a deep breath. If there was gossip going on about "Chinamen" in connection with the murder in No. 17 the newspapers would soon be getting hold of it. The arrest of Len Shi by Furneaux must be reported. Possibly some newspaper correspondent in Eastbourne would hear of the kidnaping exploit, and describe the Eastern aspect of its chief actor, Mrs. Forbes's name would "transpire" in the paragraph, and, by putting two and two together the lynx-eyed journalism of London would ferret out a good deal of the truth.

"Ladies very often talk nonsense about such things," he said sharply. "Why should any Chinaman single out poor Mrs. Lester as a victim? I think the inquiry may be left safely to Scotland Yard. Have you seen the evening papers? I'll bet you sixpence nothing was said at the inquest concerning Chinamen?"

"No, sir. That's true. However, Mrs. Paxton wants you to ring her up."

"Why?"

"She wants to be sure you are safe home."

Theydon laughed. "How can I?" he cried. "She is not on the telephone."

"Mrs. Paxton left a number, sir. If you give them a call it will be taken to her."

Theydon shook his head good-humoredly but obeyed. A voice at the other end answered:

"Will you oblige me by telling Mrs. Paxton that I took an American friend to Eastbourne this afternoon and returned by a late trains" he said.

"Who is it, please?"

"Mr. Theydon, Mrs. Paxton's brother."

"O, I have a message for you. Miss Beale is staying with Mrs. Paxton tonight. There was a Chinaman in her hotel, and she didn't like it."

Theydon controlled his feelings sufficiently to thank his informant. He really wanted to say something crude.

"Gad!" he muttered, when he had rung off, "these women have Chinamen on the brain. Look here Bates," he added emphatically, "I hope you won't lend an ear to this nonsense. You've seen no Chinamen, I supposed?"

"No, sir."

"If you do see one, tell me, and I'll get to know his business, pretty quick."

"Yes, sir."

"Any letters?"

"Three, sir, and a small parcel. I put them on your table. Shall I get you something, sir?"

"No, thanks. I've just had a huge supper. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, sir. Any orders for the morning?"

"Let me sleep as long as I like, unless I'm wanted."

Theydon entered the sitting room. He opened the letters. Two were of no moment; the third was a request from the editor of a magazine that the "copy" of his article on the "Forbes Peace Propaganda" should be forwarded as speedily as practicable. What a mad world it was, to be sure! Here was an important periodical waiting impatiently for the views of the millionaire on the best means of securing peace on earth and good will to all men, while that same master mind was obsessed with fear of a few Chinese bandits. Society was looking to Forbes for a promised panacea against war and its evils; Forbes himself was wondering whether bolts and locks and armed servants and policemen would protect him and his from the claws of the Young Manchus!

Theydon heard Bates locking and bolting the outer door of the flat with a certain thankfulness. He was thinking of the sheer impossibility of any marauder gaining access to No. 18, when he opened the small parcel which the valet had spoken of. He speculated idly as to the nature of its contents, because he could not remember having ordered any article which would be contained in so tiny a package.

He took out a piece of stout paper, folded twice, and a little white object fell to the table and rolled over several times, finally coming to rest with a curious suddenness. It was a small, carved, ivory skull!

CHAPTER XIII

SOME NEW MOVES IN THE GAME

Theydon gazed dazedly at the skull for the best part of a minute. His state of mind was that of a man, utterly incredulous, who nevertheless thinks he sees a ghost. Then he recovered himself and laughed angrily, harshly, because he had not succeeded better in controlling his nerves.

He examined the paper. It bore no writing of any kind. It was precisely similar in color and texture to the two typed slips which Forbes had received, but the sender had evidently thought that the skull was symbolical enough of deadly intent without troubling to add a written threat.

The ivory skull was an exact replica of its predecessors. The set teeth, the scowling grin of the gaunt jawbones, the dull menace of the empty eye sockets, were equally convincing, equally disconcerting.

Lighting a cigarette, Theydon scrutinized the address and postmarks. In a sense, it was ludicrous to find "Francis B. Theydon, Esq., 18 Innesmore Mansions, W. C.," typed in plain script on the wrapper. What an unholy alliance of modern science and medievalism! The mind almost refused to focus itself on the tragic aspect of the affair, yet the hour at which the package was posted, 5:30 p. m. in the West Strand, showed conclusively that Wong Li Fu, at any rate, had not sent the death's head by his own hand, but had entrusted it to a confederate. The notion brought in its train the departure of Miss Beale from her hotel, "because she had seen a Chinaman there." "Every little helps," mused Theydon, "I must let Scotland Yard know."

He went straight to the telephone, and was pleased to hear that Mr. Winter had reached headquarters. The chief inspector was feeling grateful, and said so.

"It was very thoughtful on your part to deal so promptly with the message received by Mr. Forbes," he said. "I meant remaining in Croydon all night. No one came to the house, of course. Wong Li Fu's note explained why. Callous and calculating demon, isn't he?"

"Yes. Even more calculating than you are aware. He has included me in the count now. When I reached home ten minutes since, after gormandizing with Mr. Handyside, I found the totem of the tribe awaiting me."

"The what?"

"An ivory skull."

"You don't say!" and there was a genuine thrill in Winter's voice. "Anything else?"

"There was no written legend. I have no doubt the enemy believes that such a work of art speaks for itself. It does. I am to be exterminated, I suppose."

A marked pause ensued. When Winter spoke again his tone was grave.

"This is a very serious business, Mr. Theydon," he said. "The worst part of it is that it seems to be spreading in an ever-widening circle. If it goes much further we'll be obliged to run in every Chinaman in London, and sift out the decent ones from the heap until we reach the unpleasant residuum. Are you worried about things? If so, I'll send a man to mount guard tonight."

"Not at all, thanks. Bates and I will take care that there isn't even a joss stick in the flat before we go to bed. But I say, there's another matter. Have you met Miss Beale?"

"Yes. She came here this morning. She gave evidence at the inquest, I am told. What of her?"

"I asked my sister to spend the evening with her, and she was so alarmed at finding a Chinaman as a fellow-guest in her hotel that she is spending the night in my sister's house."

"A plague on all Chinamen!" cried Winter wrathfully. "After this I'm dashed if I don't drink Indian tea. However, we'll look him up. Sleep soundly. Your earlier sins of omission are forgiven you, because you have done us several good turns today. I'll tell your local police station that if any pigtail or squint eye is found within half a mile of Innesmore Mansions tonight it is to be jugged without the slightest hesitation. Keep the skull safely. Furneaux is collecting them."

"Have you seen him, then'"

"No. But I've heard from him. He has gone home suffering from opium poisoning."

"Great Scott!"

"O, that's only pretty Fanny's way. He means that he is sick of the reek of Chinamen. You know his peculiar views with regard to tobacco. If he has been prowling around among opium dens in the East End all the evening, I'm sorry for him. But he'll turn up all right in the morning, looking like a skinned weasel. By the way, it'll interest you to hear that we have cleared up one minor issue. You remember that Ann Rogers, Mrs. Lester's maid, was called away by a telegram saying that her father was ill?"

"Yes."

"The old fellow, who is a bit of a sponge, admits that he was given two pounds by 'a foreign gentleman' for sending that telegram and shamming illness during the night. I wish I could put the hoary old rascal in jail, but his action probably saved Ann Rogers from sharing her mistress's fate."

"Mr. Winter, has it struck you that the man who devised this scheme, beginning with the murder of Mrs. Lester and ending, Heaven alone knows when or where, is an organizing genius of a very high orders"

"You would be surprised if you knew the real extent and scope of this affair," said Winter. "Some day soon I'll be more outspoken. Goodnight. If you go out in the morning leave word with Bates where you can be found if wanted."

Theydon turned from the telephone and found Bates standing beside him. That stolid and worthy ex-noncommissioned officer was armed with a red-hot poker. Henceforth his employer saw pretense was useless.

"Beg pardon, sir," said the valet apologetically. "I couldn't help overhearin' what you were sayin', an' if there's any blinkin' Chinee hidden in this place I'll put a mark on him he won't forget in a hurry."

Theydon could not help laughing, but Bates was in earnest.

"Once I was stationed in Cork, sir," he said solemnly, "an' we had to stop a riot. It was then I learnt the reel vally of a red-hot poker. It's as good as a baynit any time. I've kep' this one handy since Mr. Furneaux ran out. I do believe he saw a Chinaman."

"He did, and, what is more, arrested him. Well, come on, Bates. There are not many hiding places in one of these flats. I only hope we find a Celestial. It would be the fitting finale to a busy day."

But their search was in vain, though they succeeded in scaring Mrs. Bates badly. It was almost inconceivable that two such men, one a powerfully-built athlete and the other an ex-soldier, should even imagine that any marauder could be secreted in the flat; but the European insensibly credits the Oriental with occult powers, and they took their task quite soberly.

Singularly enough it led to a discovery bearing directly on the problem of Mrs. Lester's death. Lending out of the kitchen was a narrow scullery; here a lift, worked by a wheel on the ground level, delivered coals by the sack and other heavy parcels.

Theydon glanced at the sliding panel which gave access to the lift. Obviously he seldom, if ever, visited this part of his domain.

"Can that thing be operated only from the ground?" he inquired.

"O, no, sir," said Bates. "I often pull it up when I want to lower the dust bin."

"Can you do it now?"

Bates looked surprised at first, then thoughtful. Theydon's words had suggested a new idea. He opened the panel, tugged vigorously at a rope, and soon the lift itself, a sort of large cupboard, open at the side, came in view.

"By gum!" he muttered, gazing at its spacious depths, "I never thought of that."

"You see what I'm driving at, then?"

"Why, of course, sir. A moderate-sized man could stow away inside there and hoist himself to any floor. It 'ud be perfectly easy an' safe as nails. A hundredweight of coal is nothing to it."

"I think we see now at least one method whereby the man who killed Mrs. Lester could have entered the flat without her knowledge?"

"Not a doubt about it, sir. Nearly noiseless, too, an' if you heard it working you'd imagine it was meant for the flat beneath, because there's a whistle to warn us when it's comin' here."

They surveyed the lift in silence for a little while. Then Bates caused it to descend again, and Theydon examined the rather flimsy device which fastened the panel.

"I'm not what you might describe as a nervous individual," he said, at last, "but it wouldn't be fair to your wife and yourself, Bates, if I didn't tell you I have just received an ugly reminder that the gang which killed Mrs. Lester has a grudge against me now. Wouldn't it be a reasonable thing if we drove a couple of screws into that door tonight?"

Bates stroked his chin. The long-dormant spirit of combat kindled in his eye.

"Better still, sir," he grinned, "let's drive a screw into any one who comes up in the lift."

"But how?"

"By tying your pistol firmly to the dresser, putting it on a hair-trigger— I know how to do that, of course— an' letting it plug a bullet into the right place when the panel is half open."

"Are we justified in taking the law into our own hands?"

"Is any one justified in tryin' to get in here an' cut our throats while we're asleep, sir?"

Theydon weighed the pros and cons of this thesis very carefully. He dreaded the possibility of taking a human life, even in self-defense. Yet against the wretches who had strangled Edith Lester, and coolly prepared to leave Mrs. Forbes to starve in an empty house until their revengeful scheme was perfected by full knowledge of the identity of every man in China, who had assisted in the downfall of an effete monarchy, what code of conduct would apply unless it were that which holds sway in the jungle?

"Couldn't we contrive matters so that if the pistol were fired it need not necessarily inflict a fatal wound?" he said.

"Let's see what we can do, sir," and Bates set to work gleefully on the arrangements. There was not the slightest difficulty in devising an efficient means of pressing a trigger with a reduced pull by opening the door. Any schoolboy could adjust a piece of string to act unfailingly. By measuring distances, and careful sighting of the pistol when fixed in position, they arrived at a line of fire which would strike a body crouched in the lift about the region of the right shoulder.

Then Bates locked the scullery door, put the key in his pocket, and assured his trembling wife that she might sleep like a top, since no bloomin' Chinaman could get at her that night. Theydon himself retired soon afterwards. He was as tired as though he had been trudging steadily along country roads since daybreak.

When he awoke, it was broad daylight. Around the corners of the drawn blinds in his bedroom he could see strips of golden sunshine. Glancing at a clock on the mantlepiece he was amazed to find that the hour was ten o'clock, so, not only had there not been a raid on the premises, but Bates had taken the overnight instructions literally, and allowed him to sleep far beyond the usual hour.

He rose hurriedly, raced to the bathroom and shouted for "breakfast in fifteen minutes." He was splashing in his tub when the telephone bell rang, and Bates answered. Within a few seconds the valet was knocking at the door.

"A Mr. Handyside has rung up, sir," was the announcement. "I think he's an American. He wants to know if there is anything doin'. He said you would understand."

"Tell him I'm alive, and will call at his hotel at 11:30."

"Yes, sir."

When Bates brought in the breakfast Theydon was glancing hurriedly through the morning papers. Some of them contained an allusion to the Eastbourne incident, but no names were mentioned.

A reference to "developments" in connection with the "Innesmore Mansions Murder," however, caught his eye. Appended to a brief account of the inquest were the following paragraphs:

"It may be taken as certain that the police are not altogether at sea as to the motive of this atrocious crime. Strange as it may seem— the victim being a young and attractive lady, living unostentatiously and taking little, if any, part in the social life of London— there is some probability that Mrs. Lester's death was the outcome of political revenge rather than an incident in an interrupted burglary.

"At first, every indication pointed to the act of some ghoul surprised by the unfortunate lady in her bedroom, but we have reason to believe that graver issues to the community-at-large will be revealed when Scotland Yard's inquiry is completed. It must not be forgotten that her husband died 'suddenly' some six months ago in Shanghai. Oddly enough, the police are now keeping a close surveillance on Chinese quarters in London, not only in the neighborhood of the docks, but in the fashionable West. It may, or may not, be a mere coincidence that a Chinaman was arrested yesterday at St. Albans and lodged in Bow Street.

"There are not wanting other similar 'coincidences' in places so far apart as a well-known South Coast seaside resort and South Croydon. At present, the whole matter is nebulous, but striking developments may take place at any hour, and the murder of Mrs. Lester may yet figure as one of the most sensational crimes of recent years."

Theydon was reading these discreet but exceedingly well-informed sentences with much care, when he noticed that Bates had closed the sitting-room door before beginning to arrange the contents of the tray on the table. Such an unusual action meant something.

"Well, what is it now?" he inquired, lifting his eyes to the manservant's impassive face.

"When the milkman come this morning, sir, he told me that a policeman was found lyin' insensible on the road outside the mansions shortly after three o'clock," was the answer, conveyed in a low note that suggested a matter better kept from the cognizance of Mrs. Bates.

"That's a bad job for the policeman; it is nothing very remarkable otherwise," said Theydon.

"But the milkman heard he was set about by three swells, young gentlemen in evening dress, sir, who ran away when another constable appeared."

"Very likely. There was a row, and the law got the worst of it. Anyhow, we were not disturbed during the night."

"No, sir. I was only thinkin' of what might have happened if the police were not on the job."

"Look here, Bates"— and Theydon's manner was most emphatic— "if you and I begin seeing shadows we'll soon collect a fine show of Chinese ghosts. I'm astonished at you, a man who has been under fire."

"Sorry, sir. I thought you'd like to hear the lytest, that's all."

Theydon ate a hearty breakfast, thus proving that the marvels and portents of the previous day had not begun to undermine his constitution. Finding he had time, after attending to his correspondence, to walk to Handyside's hotel in the Strand, he did so. The American was awaiting him at the end of a long, thin cigar.

"Any noos?" said the Chicagoan, after a cheerful greeting.

"Yes. The feud continues. You heard about those ivory skulls yesterday?"

"Yes, sir. They reminded me of the tales of my youth."

"Well, I got mine last night. Here it is!"

"Gee whiz!"

Handyside took the small object which Theydon produced from a waistcoat pocket. He examined it with minute care.

"I've never crossed the Pacific," he said, after apparently satisfying himself as to the exact nature of the unpleasant token, "but one of my hobbies is the collection of ivories. In my home—"

"21,097 Park Avenue," interrupted Theydon.

"Just so— four doors short of 211th Street. Well, sir, when you blow in there you'll see a roomful of curios. I'm not exactly a connoisseur, but I know enough to tell Japanese work from Chinese. This was made by a Jap. And that reminds me. You said last night that Wong Li Fu put you off your balance by a jiu jitsu trick and handed that husky detective some, too. Very few Chinks have ever even heard of jiu jitsu. I've a notion that a bunch of Japs is mixed up in this business."

"Surely not?"

"It's possible. You good people here are crazy in your treatment of the Japanese. You think they're civilized because they dress in good shape, and can put up a mighty spry imitation of Western ways. But they ain't. They're the greatest menace to Europe that has yet come up on the tape. Do you believe they want China to wake up and organize before they're ready to take hold? No, sir. Anyhow, that skull was carved by a Japanese artist, and a bully good one at that."

The two were standing near the fireplace of a square and spacious foyer. There were plenty of people in the place, some conversing with friends, others writing or doing business at the various bureaus. It chanced that Theydon faced the two swing doors which led to the street, and he was returning the bit of ivory to his pocket when, somewhat to his surprise, Furneaux entered.

The detective saw him, too— of that he was quite certain— but ignored him completely. After one sharp, comprehensive glance around, as though he were seeking some one who was not visible, the little man went to a desk, scribbled a note, handed it in at the inquiry office, walked swiftly in the direction of an anteroom and restaurant, and disappeared forthwith.

Theydon was puzzled by Furneaux's behavior, but was quick to perceive that if the latter had not wished to be left alone he would at least have made some sign of recognition.

A page approached Mr. Handyside.

"Note for you, sir," he said.

The American opened the envelope and read a few lines scribbled on a sheet of note-paper. He passed it to Theydon.

"The circus is now about to commence," he said, and the meaning of this enigmatical remark was made clear when Theydon saw what was written.

"Dear Sir," it ran, "take Mr. Theydon to your room. I'll join you there immediately.— C. F. Furneaux."

"If this is the little sleuth who was missing yesterday I guess we've gotten our call," commented Handyside, with an amused grin at the expression of bewilderment on his companion's face.

"I was just about to tell you that Furneaux had come in and crossed the hall."

"Well, let's beat it to the third floor. I have the key in my pocket."

They were walking through a long corridor when Furneaux appeared at the other end. Beyond the three men, not another person was visible in that part of the hotel, and in a few seconds they were behind the closed door of Handyside's room.

"So you're still on the map?" said the detective, surveying Theydon with an air of professional interest.

"Yes, but I have received notice to quit," was the retort.

"So I hear. The executioner was quick on the heels of the warrant, too. If it had not been for the precautions Winter took last night the newsboys would have been bawling a second Innesmore Mansions tragedy during the past couple of hours."

Theydon smiled.

"I'm not joking," snapped Furneaux. "In fact, I feel rather bad about it. I woke up at eight o'clock, and pictured you and Bates and his wife lying about in No. 18 in very uncomfortable and ungainly attitudes. I was so worried and miserable that I telephoned your hall porter to learn the worst, and was quite astonished when he said that Bates had just been chatting with him. You don't understand, of course. I forgot to tell you about the lift. Wong Li Fu's special delegate climbed into No. 17 by that means and three of 'em would have reached you last night in the same way if a policeman hadn't met them in the street."

"My man heard about the row. He guessed, too, that it had something to do with us. The policeman was badly injured, he was told."

"Yes— nothing broken; he was put to sleep by some confounded Japanese wrestling trick."

"Japanese, you say?"

"Precisely. The Young Manchus are being backed up by a second gang which calls itself the 'Sons of Nippon.' I don't know what London is coming to. We've entertained Anarchists, Nihilists and Dynamitards for years. Now we have the Yellow Peril with us. I wish I were King for a few days. There would be a bigger clearance of reptiles out of England than St. Patrick made in Ireland."

"Mr. Handyside here told me only ten minutes since that he was convinced there were Japs in league with the Chinese."

"How did you know?" and Furneaux whirled round on the American instantly.

"By using the gray matter at the back of my head," was the reply. "No Chink ever taught Wong Li Fu how to put away two chesty individuals like Mr. Theydon and your painter, Mr. Winter. But I couldn't be sure till I had seen the ivory skull. Then I knew."

"So did I know yesterday morning," said Furneaux, "and a deuce of a time the discovery gave me. Anyhow, the street fight outside Innesmore Mansions at daybreak today settles the matter. There were two Japanese and one Chinaman. The Japs outed the policeman. Fortunately he and another man made a five-minute point at each end of the mansions, and, as No. 1 failed to turn up, No. 2 went to look for him. He saw the end of the row, and ran to help, blowing his whistle for assistance. Unfortunately for us, two of the three confounded blackguards escaped."

"O, you've got one, then?" cried Theydon.

"Yes, a Jap. The constable was wise enough to give him the point of his truncheon in the gullet, and that settled him."

"I wonder if he is the one who would have been shot had he broken into my flat," said Theydon musingly.

"Shot! Man alive, you'd never have heard him!"

"Not till he had a bullet lodged securely in his inside, it is true. Bates and I surveyed that lift last night, Mr. Furneaux, and regarded it as the weak part of our defenses, so we arranged that an automatic pistol should live up to its name, and fire at any one who opened the sliding panel."

"Did you now?" said Furneaux admiringly. "Whose brainy idea was that— yours or Bates's?"

"A joint effort," he said, with a self-satisfied smile.

"Well, I'm glad it didn't come off. British law is a fearsome and wonderful thing. You might both have got ten years for fixing a man-trap, to wit, a lethal engine. However, during the next few days you're going to change your abode. Tell Bates and his wife that they need a holiday, and ought to visit relatives in Yorkshire or North Wales. Pack what you need for a week, at least, and make straight for Fortescue Square."

"Are you joking?" said Theydon, genuinely astounded.

"Do I look it?" And, indeed, the detective did not. "Winter has just settled that program with Mr. Forbes. You see, you're in this affair now, neck and crop, and it's easier for us to safeguard one place than two. You're pleased, aren't you? Doesn't a pretty girl live there?"

"Sir," said Handyside, "he's tickled to death, and that's a fact. I'm the only one to make a kick. I kind of reckoned on being allowed to play a walking-on part in this drama, but I look like being cut out in the new shuffle."

"I can make use of you," said Furneaux promptly. "You've seen Wong Li Fu, and would know him again?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you can tell a Japanese from a Chinaman at sight?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. You're enrolled. Next thing you'll be receiving an ivory skull, too. These beggars are the smartest crowd I've come across in twenty years. I think they would have beaten us if it hadn't happened that Mr. Theydon and you, each of you strangers to the Forbes family, were selected by fate to intervene at psychological moments. The Young Manchus and their allies had the ground surveyed thoroughly. They even had us of the Yard marked down. Oh, it's a plot and a half, I can assure you, and the worst thing is that the real struggle is yet ahead. All that has happened before is mere skirmishing compared with what's to come."

"Is that why you covered up your tracks, even in this hotel, before you came to my room?" inquired Handyside.

"It is, and let me tell you that you're a living example of a contradiction in terms. You use your brains, Mr. Handyside, yet you smoke a cigar calculated to atrophy the keenest intellect. You, an American, chewing a vile Burmese Cheroot! Cre' nom d'un pipe! When this bubble has burst I must reason with you!"

CHAPTER XIV

WHEREIN THEYDON SUFFERS FROM FAINT HEART

Furneaux, with that phenomenally clear mind of his, had perceived and expressed in one trenchant sentence the outstanding and almost unique feature of the tragic mystery which centered around the death of Edith Lester. Theydon's connection with either international finance or the rebirth of China was remote as that of the man in the moon. Yet he had been pitchforked by fate into an active and, indeed, dominating influence over those phases of both undertakings which were peculiar to London.

Theydon mused on this element in an unprecedented situation as he sat in the taxicab which bore him swiftly to Innesmore Mansions. Another quite abnormal condition was the ignorance of London with regard to the fierce struggle now being waged in its midst.

On the one hand, a few Oriental fanatics— most of whom were probably less swayed by racial enthusiasm than by good payment for services rendered— were carrying out the orders of a master criminal with a sublime indifference to the laws framed by the "foreign devils" whom they despised; on the other were ranged the three members of the Forbes family and Theydon himself, supported by the forces of the Crown, it was true, but singularly isolated from the knowledge and sympathy of their fellow-citizens.

Miss Beale hardly counted. The servants in Fortescue Square shared with Bates and his wife a sort of territorial interest in the fight. When Fortune picked an occasional warrior for the fray she chose a man from Chicago, a motorcyclist from Eastbourne, a policeman in Charing Cross road.

How portentous had been that hand raised to stem the traffic at a congested corner on the Monday night! Into what a vortex of crime and passion had it not pointed, all unknowing!

If the cab in which Theydon was hurrying home from Daly's Theater had not been delayed by the dispute between driver and policeman, he would never have known that the millionaire visited Innesmore Mansions, and the subsequent course of the night's history might have left him wholly unaffected.

Then his wayward thoughts took to brooding on the gray car which shadowed him from Waterloo to Fortescue Square, and again from the square to his own abode. If it held some member of the Embassy staff, why had no more been heard of it? And what had Winter and Furneaux meant by hinting that far wider issues were bound up with the affair than the authorities were yet at liberty to divulge? The attack on Forbes, sinister and malevolent in its scope and purpose, was, in a sense, open warfare. But it was impossible to guess what part, if any, the official representatives of China filled in the fray. Were they active allies of Scotland Yard or did they hold what is known in the law courts as a watching brief? He could not tell. He only knew that each successive period of twenty-four hours broadened the area covered by the struggle, and there, at least, he found solid backing for the little detective's demand that the threatened people should dwell under one roof. His pulses quickened at the notice that this new departure implied constant association with Evelyn Forbes. Yet, what did it avail? Why should he dream of fanning into a fiercer fury the flame of his love? As matters stood, he had about as much chance of marrying Evelyn Forbes as of becoming Emperor of China!

The incongruity of the situation was illustrated with cruel accuracy by the fact that he could ill afford the stoppage of his work demanded by the present trend of events. He earned what might be regarded as a good income by his pen, but his expenses were not light, and he had deemed himself fortunate the previous year when he was able to invest a hundred pounds!

As a matter of fact, the interest on his "securities" paid for his gloves and ties; another lucky year might see him provided for life with boots and socks! He pictured himself— if he were idiot enough, when all this turmoil was ended, to pose as a suitor for Evelyn Forbes's hand— explaining his financial position to the millionaire, and wilting under the scornful amusement in those earnest, deep-seeing eyes. Phew! He grew hot at the mere notion of such folly.

Little wonder, therefore, that the driver of the taxi should gaze quizzically after Theydon's alert figure as it vanished in the stairway of Innesmore Mansions.

"Got the hump, an' pretty bad," soliloquized the man. "Gimme a bob over the fare, an' all, so can't be stony. But Lord love a duck, you never can tell!"

Theydon was about to unlock the door of his flat when it opened in his face, and his sister nearly collided with him. She screamed slightly, a certain quality of alarm in her exclamation merging instantly into joyful recognition.

"So you have come home!" she cried. "My goodness! What a fright you've given me!"

"Why?" he said, with a reassuring and brotherly hug.

"I've had horrid dreams. I couldn't rest all last night for thinking of you."

"Is George absent?" George was her husband, a consulting engineer, whose professional duties often took him to distant parts of the country.

"Yes."

"Then you and Miss Beale have been living on tea and scraps. Really, Mollie, I credited you with more sense. Tell me what you ate last night, and I'll diagnose your dreams."

"We dined at a first-class restaurant in the West End," said Mrs. Paxton indignantly. "It would be much more to the point if you explained how you have been living the past few days. I have not been so worried about anything since George was trapped in that horrid mine."

Mollie was on the verge of tears. Her brother resolved instantly to minimize matters, or she would fret more than ever on his account.

"Now, look here, old girl," he said, meeting her critical glance steadily. "Miss Beale has been putting absurd notions into that stylish little head of yours. By the way, is that the latest thing in hats? It suits you admirably."

Mrs. Paxton smiled, though her eyes were glistening suspiciously.

"You can't humbug me, Frank, so please don't try," she protested. "Why are you mixed up in this dreadful business? Why are you constantly meeting detectives? Why did you rush off to Eastbourne yesterday? When did you become acquainted with this Mr. Forbes? Have you seen his daughter?"

Theydon was at least sufficiently well versed in the peculiarities of the feminine temperament to know that he would, be safe in answering the last question first.

"Yes," he said. "I have seen a good deal of Miss Forbes recently. Have you ever met her?"

"She was at the horse show last year with Lady de Winton's party. She's an awfully pretty girl, and will be worth millions, I suppose. Some one said that young de Winton was simply crazy about her, but he looks such a sloppy youth that I could hardly imagine those two getting married. Of course, there's the title, yet a title is not everything."

Young de Winton! Theydon had not even been aware hitherto of the existence of a marriageable scion of that noble house.

"That particular young spark has not been in evidence during the past few days at any rate," he commented, and his voice was not so nonchalant as he imagined, because Mrs. Paxton looked up quickly.

"Perhaps it was only idle gossip," she said. "Is Miss Forbes a nice girl to talk to? She struck me as being very animated."

"Animated"— while in the company of that undoubted oaf, de Winton! Theydon choked back something tinged with gall as he replied quietly:

"She could not well help being highly intelligent. Her father and mother are charming people. I was introduced to Mr. Forbes owing to a magazine commission to write an article about his interest in aviation. Now you see how promptly even the most gorgeous bubble bursts when it impinges against a solid little fact. As it happens, Mr. Forbes and I will have so much in common during the next day or two that I am now going to stay with him. I came here to pack a portmanteau. If you'll be a good little girl and listen while I'm at the telephone you will hear all about it."

The words were no sooner uttered than he wanted to recall them. It would be no easy matter to discuss Furneaux's suggestion with any one in Fortescue Square without letting his sister into the secret that the visit was necessitated by considerations of his own personal safety.

Mrs. Paxton's eyes were sparkling with a new interest.

"I had no idea you were on terms of such intimacy with the family," she cried. "Don't tell me, Frank, that your flights have taken you to the elevated region in which millionaires' daughters figure as possible brides!"

"Now you are making me out a Mormon," and Theydon grinned fiercely.

"You know what I mean. This Miss Forbes— by the way, what is her Christian name?"

"Let me see. I think I have heard it. Doris, is it, or Phyllis? No, I remember now— Evelyn."

"O, then, if you are so vague on that point I suppose I must reconcile myself to owning a bachelor brother again."

He shook his head at her.

"Ah, you women!" he said. "Yet I used to regard you as quite a sensible person, Mollie! Now, how in the name of goodness could I possibly entertain any notion of marrying the only daughter of a man in Forbes's position?"

"It all depends," was the illogical but crushing retort. "There are plenty of millionaires' daughters whom I would not regard as good enough for my brother. And, let me tell you, the family is making progress. A little bird whispered the other day that George's name will appear in the next list of honors. He is to receive a knighthood."

It was not new to Theydon to learn that his brother-in-law stood in high favor with the Government, because Paxton had been appointed on two Royal Commissions with reference to mining regulations, but he affected a surprised incredulity as offering a way of escape from an inquisition which he dreaded.

"Dear me!" he smirked.

Therein he erred. His sister gave him a puzzled glance.

"You are not yourself today, Frank," she said dubiously. "You are acting. For whose benefit? Not mine, surely!"

"If your prospective ladyship will pardon me I will now go to the telephone," he countered.

Anything, even a mad jumble of incoherence in his talk with the Forbes household, was better than the troubled scrutiny of those clear brown eyes. Leaving the door open so that his sister could hear his side of the conversation, he rang up No. 11 Fortescue Square.

The butler answered.

"That you, Tomlinson?" said Theydon. "Will you ask Mr. Forbes if I am to turn up in time for afternoon tea? If it is more convenient that I should arrive later I have lots of things to attend to, and can fill in a few hours easily."

"I really don't know what to say, sir," came the astounding answer. "Mrs. Forbes has been shot—"

"Great heavens!"

"Yes, sir. She was merely looking out through the drawing-room window, when some one fired at her from a passing motor car."

"Do you mean that she is dead?"

"No, sir— not quite so bad as that. The bullet struck her left shoulder. A few inches lower and it would have pierced her heart. The doctors are with her now. I—"

Some interruption took place on the line and the butler's voice ceased. Theydon, careless now as to what construction his sister might place on his words, was about to storm at the exchange for cutting the communication. He meant to say that on no consideration would he inflict the presence of a stranger at such a terrible moment, when a coldly metallic, almost harsh question reached him.

"That you, Theydon?"

"Yes," he said. Forbes was speaking.

"I was crossing the hall, and guessed it might be you. Come as soon as you are at liberty. You will be welcome. If we are to be besieged I want some one who will not be afraid to shoot. These policemen are too scrupulous. They saw some cursed Mongol leaning out through the window of the closed car, and could have either shot him or put a bullet so close that his aim would have been disturbed. As it was, my wife only escaped death by the mercy of Providence. She bent slightly at the very instant the would-be assassin fired, and the bullet simply lacerated her shoulder. After this, I'll defend myself and my womenfolk, but I need at least one other man whom I can trust. Will you come?"

"I'll be with you within twenty minutes."

He heard the clang of the receiver being replaced on its rest at the other end of the wire. Somehow, the sound conveyed a new determination on Forbes's part. He had his back to the wall. No matter what view the law took of his action subsequently, he would protect his dear ones at all hazards.

After that, Theydon hesitated no longer.

"Bates," he cried, "throw into a bag such clothes as I shall need for a few days' stay in Mr. Forbes's house. When I am gone, pack your own boxes and take a week's holiday. Go anywhere you like, out of London, but go at once. Send me your address, care of Mr. Forbes, and I'll let you know when I want you again."

"If it's a matter of holdin' out against them—"

Bates intended making a declaration of war, but his employer broke in emphatically.

"I want you to obey my orders fully and unquestionably," he said. Bates promptly became the well-trained valet once more.

"Yes, sir," he said. "Your portmanteau will be ready in ten minutes. Half an hour later me an' Mrs. Bates will leave for my cousin's place in Hampshire."

Theydon returned to the sitting room. His sister's face was white with fear, but he threw restraint to the winds.

"Mollie," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, "you are very dear to me, but there is one woman in the world who, if fate proves kind, may yet be dearer. She is in danger. If some one said that of you to your husband, what would he do?"

She kissed him with tremulous lips. "He would act just as you are going to act," she said. "But, dear, can't you trust me? I cannot help, perhaps, but I can pray for you."

"Well, then, Sis, I won't fence with you any longer. There's a sort of feud between Mr. Forbes and a faction in China. He helped the reformers financially, and some supporters of the dethroned dynasty are trying to compel him by force to give them a list of the prominent men who control the revolution. If he yields, it means that nearly a hundred leading men in China— men whose only thought is the welfare and progress of their country— will be ruthlessly murdered. If he continues to refuse, his own life and the lives of his wife and daughter are at stake. These fiends killed Mrs. Lester within a few feet of this very room. They killed her husband six months ago. They tried to kidnap Evelyn Forbes yesterday, and succeeded, for a while, in carrying off her mother, their plan being to torture one or both, even unto death. Heaven help me, I love Evelyn Forbes, and I would count my life well spent if I died in defending her. Should anything happen to me and she is spared, tell her that, will you— and my spirit will thank you."

"We must not think of death, but of life," was the brave answer. "Can I do anything? Could George assist if he were here?"

"No, Mollie. Perhaps I am exaggerating matters, though the history of this week would make strange reading if published broadcast. Indeed I shall now urge on Mr. Forbes the advisability of sending the facts to the press. London would be stirred to its depths, and every one of its citizens would be quick to observe and report the presence of Chinamen or Japanese in the West End. Some innocent Orientals would suffer, but the police might at least be enabled to capture the pestiferous gang which has committed this latest outrage. Just think of some cold-blooded scoundrel shooting at a sweet-mannered and gentle lady like Mrs. Forbes!"

"Surely the authorities can protect her."

"That is the wild absurdity of the position. Of course, you didn't hear what Mr. Forbes said. The armed detectives on duty in his house actually saw the Chinaman who fired the shot which wounded her, leaning out through the window of a closed car. But they cannot blaze away at any passer-by merely because he is, or resembles, an Asiatic. What they dare not do, however, he and I will endeavor cheerfully. Bates!"

"Yes, sir," came the cry from a bedroom.

"If you are packing two bags, put that pistol and a box of cartridges in the smaller one."

"Yes, sir."

Mrs. Paxton at this crisis proved herself a woman of spirit.

"I think you're right, Frank," she said quietly. "I refuse to believe that any British court of justice would blame any man for defending the lives of his wife and daughter, nor you for helping him. If the peacefully disposed Chinese residents in London wish to avoid risk let them keep away from No. 11. Fortescue Square. May I come with you?"

"You, Mollie?"

He looked at her with troubled eyes. For the moment such was the fire in his brain he did not understand.

She laughed gallantly.

"I don't mean as one of the garrison," she said. "May I not make the acquaintance of these people? Sometimes, the mere knowledge that others are aware of one's troubles and sympathize with one is comforting. Miss Beale is not expecting me till tea time. I told her I might lunch with you. Indeed, I promised to call at her hotel for her letters, and that is halfway on your road."

"You're a brick, Mollie," said her brother. "I do believe Evelyn Forbes will be glad to see you. The most amazing thing about this affair is that none of the many friends Mr. and Mrs. Forbes and their daughter must possess in London has the slightest inkling of the truth. I suppose the servants are instructed to tell ordinary callers that the various members of the family are out, or some of them indisposed, or something of the sort.... But come along! I hear Bates banging my belongings into the passage. I'm in a fever to be there and taking part in the row."

Soon they were seated in a taxi and speeding to Smith's Hotel, Jermyn Street.

"Have you invited Miss Beale to reside with you while she is in London, Sis?" said Theydon, allowing his thoughts to dwell for a moment on the less tragic side of events.

"Yes. What else could I do? Poor thing, she was terrified at the notion of sleeping under the same roof as a Chinaman."

"I don't blame her. But there's a certain element of risk for you, Mollie—"

"Oh, bother! Don't tell me that a few Chinamen can threaten all London."

Yet even the valiant-hearted Mrs. Paxton yielded to the haunting terror of the bandits when the taxi drew in behind a gray car already standing at the curb outside Smith's Hotel, and her brother grasped her wrist in sudden warning.

"Sit still," he said. "Now we may get on the track of some of the gang. That is the car which followed me on Monday night."

His sister, of course, did not understand. She had heard nothing of the pursuit and its curious sequel.

"Do you mean it is one of the cars which these men use?" she whispered breathlessly.

"Yes. I'll explain later. But what impudence! The scoundrels have not even changed the number plate."

Unquestionably, the number of the gray landaulet now within a few feet of them was XY 1314. Theydon stooped, opened a dressing case lying at his feet, and took out the automatic pistol placed there by Bates. He put it in the right-hand pocket of his coat.

"Now, I'll reconnoiter," he said, and opened the door. The taxi driver was already gazing curiously in at his fares, wondering why one or both did not alight.

"Be ready to start the instant I want you," said Theydon to the man, and he strolled past the gray car, with every sense alert, every muscle braced. If Wong Li Fu were seated inside he would cover him with the pistol and hold him there until the police came, or shoot him dead if he offered any resistance.

Fortunately, therefore, all things considered, the interior of the car was absolutely empty, save for a copy of the Times on the back seat. Even the presence of the newspaper was significant. In that issue should have appeared Forbes's reply to "Y. M." which Furneaux had suppressed as unnecessary.

There was a chauffeur at the wheel— no Chinaman, but a tightly-buttoned and black-legginged young Englishman— in fact, the real thing in chauffeurs.

"Whose car is this?" demanded Theydon.

"It belongs to the Chinese Embassy, sir," said the man, answering civilly enough, but not unnaturally showing some surprise at the curt question.

"Are you waiting here for some official of the Embassy?" went on Theydon.

"Not exactly, sir, some friends of His Excellency." The man glanced toward the door of the hotel. "Here they are now," he added.

Theydon turned. Two Chinamen, sedate, pig-tailed persons, were descending the steps. With them was Furneaux! One of the Orientals gave Theydon a rather sharp glance, having noticed, apparently, that he was conversing with the chauffeur, but Furneaux, after a stonily indifferent stare, said to the second Chinaman, in plain English:

"Do you mind dropping me at Scotland Yard?"

"With pleasure," was the composed reply.

The three entered, and the gray car made off, leaving Theydon to gaze blankly after it. His sister, though badly scared at first, quickly recovered her self-possession. She even made a joke of the incident.

"As an anti-climax, Frank, that is the best thing of its kind you have ever brought off," she tittered.

CHAPTER XV

FORCEFUL TACTICS

Though a prey to that most burthensome of cares— the uneasy consciousness of an impalpable yet ever-threatening evil— Theydon was not blind to the humorous element in the present situation. Mrs. Paxton, of course, did not know who the little man accompanying the Chinamen was.

She had seen her brother stalk the motor car and its presumed occupants in the most approved melodramatic fashion, and could not help noticing his complete discomfiture. Naturally she imagined he had encountered a pair of perfectly harmless citizens of the Middle Kingdom, and, being one of those happy beings more readily swayed to laughter than to tears, rallied him upon an apparent blunder.

"Never before have I discovered a neurotic streak in you, Frank," she said, after she had obtained a couple of letters for Miss Beale, and they were en route again. "Come now, confess. If Evelyn Forbes— or, let me see, is it Phyllis or Doris? No, Evelyn. If Evelyn Forbes, then, did not happen to be a remarkably pretty girl, would you really attach such terrific importance to the mad goings-on of a set of Chinese fanatics? I doubt it."

The cab was threading its way through the traffic of St. James Street and Piccadilly on a busy afternoon in the season, and Theydon had much to tell her before they arrived at Fortescue Square, but he sat by her side in silence for a little while.

"Frank," said his sister, at last, "it is not like you to seek refuge in silence. I'm sorry if my chaff annoyed you. Don't forget that you know everything about this mysterious business, and I know very little."

Her sympathetic voice roused him from the stupor which had benumbed his senses.

"I allowed imagination to run away with me, Sis," he said gently. "It was thoughtless on my part. Please forgive me. I suppose those two Chinamen are unofficially connected with the Embassy. At any rate, the man with them, the little man in a blue serge suit and straw hat, is Furneaux of Scotland Yard, a pocket marvel among detectives, the sort of criminal-hunter you read about in Gaboriau, but can scarcely accept as existing in real life."

From that instant he bent his wits to the task of acquainting Mrs. Paxton with the history of the preceding three days. He was aware of the irrepressible trembling which shook her slender frame when he spoke of the ivory skull found in Edith Lester's underbodice, and the replica of the same grewsome token sent to Forbes, so suppressed all mention of his own experiences on returning to Innesmore Mansions overnight.

Furneaux had asked him for the bit of ivory that morning, and, incidentally, had produced the others from his pocket. The detective gave no reason for his eagerness to possess these trophies, but seemed to invest them with great importance. While keeping up a constant flow of talk with his sister, Theydon tried to puzzle out the detective's motive for carrying such sinister messengers of death around London.

Try as he might, he could arrive at no plausible explanation, but he did not make the error of attributing Furneaux's action to mere impulse. Those men of the Yard had a solid foundation for every step they took. Even the visit to Smith's Hotel, and subsequent departure in the gray car, meant a definite stride onward in the fight against Wong Li Fu. Of that he was assured.

At 11 Fortescue Square there were no outward signs of recent disturbance beyond the presence of a sharp-eyed policeman at each corner of the row of houses of which Mr. Forbes's residence formed one of the center pair. Theydon expected to see a shattered window in the drawing-room on the first floor, where, presumably, Mrs. Forbes was standing when the shot was fired, but each pane in three large windows was intact, and the windows were closed.

Then he reflected— as, indeed, proved to be the case— that on such a fine day the window would probably be open. Two windows on the second floor and one in the cloakroom near the front door were raised a few inches, but drawn curtains screened from observation any watchful eye which might be stationed behind them. As a matter of fact, armed detectives were hidden there, and they had been given specific orders to shoot without warning any one of Chinese appearance whose behavior was suspicious, while three men were in readiness in the hall to rush out into the square and make an arrest under similar circumstances.

In that fashionable quarter, at that hour, automobiles of every type were passing constantly. At the very next door a well-appointed carriage and pair was in readiness to take an elderly lady for a drive in the park. As yet, none of the other residents in the square had the remotest notion that No. 11 was in a state of siege. The position of affairs, if it were not so desperate, was almost amusing!

Mrs. Paxton and Theydon were admitted without any delay, and Forbes himself hurried downstairs to greet them. He was pale, but quite composed. All the nervous uncertainty of the previous day had vanished. He was armed and willing for the fray. If, as was by no means unlikely, Wong Li Fu staked everything on a gambler's throw and led his cohort in a daylight raid on the house, the Manchu leader would meet with a very warm reception.

Forbes was surprised to find that a lady had come with Theydon, but expressed his pleasure at the visit, which, he said, was just the thing his wife and Evelyn needed.

"Yes," he went on cheerfully, noting the astonishment caused by his words, "Mrs. Forbes is not seriously injured. The bullet lacerated the top of her left shoulder, and the wound is painful but superficial. She positively refuses to remain in bed, so our doctor humored her, provided she promises not to pass the time looking through the drawing-room window!"

Mrs. Paxton, to whose senses the presence of armed detectives and constables in uniform was even more eloquent than her brother's words, glanced about the spacious entrance hall with wide-eyed amazement. Once she and her brother were recognized as friends of the family, the men on duty gave them no heed.

Outside were the familiar sounds of London traffic; within were preparations for conflict. The police carried revolvers openly in leather cases strapped to their belts. On a table near the library door were several automatic pistols ready to be snatched up in an emergency. An alert detective, revolver in hand, was peering through the curtains of the cloakroom; this sentry, in particular, would alarm the garrison if, as Winter had definitely warned his assistants, an attempt were ever made to enter the house by main force.

"I think I must be dreaming," she said, trying bravely to lessen the gravity of the statement by smiling at its inherent absurdity. "Am I in London, or have I been whisked by magic to one of those outposts of civilization where men and women of European race are often compelled to band together for protection against savages? One reads of such things comfortably while dawdling over breakfast, and one wonders idly why people go to such places. But that something of the sort could happen in London— why, it is simply fantastic!"

"It is unpleasantly real, for all that, Mrs. Paxton," said Forbes, leading the way up the stairs. "What else can we do? If the authorities surrounded the house with a cordon of soldiers London would be in an uproar. We want to avoid that, at all costs. I have been in communication with the Home Office, and am advised that, if we decide to put up with the inconvenience, it is better, and actually less risky, to hold out here than seek safety by flight. I understand that Scotland Yard is not losing an unnecessary minute, but there are obvious difficulties in the way of decisive action. It is considered worse than useless to effect isolated arrests, as these tend only to put the other members of the gang on their guard. The chief inspector tells me that he had some hope of being able to make a big haul tonight. The principal drawback is the language bar. Chinese interpreters are few and far between in London, and those who do exist— in the East End, for instance— have long since lost any useful acquaintance with events in their own country. This is a political matter, you understand, and must be fought out on political lines. Strange as it may sound in your ears, the cause of Chinese freedom is at issue in this very house. If Wong Li Fu could secure a list of names now locked in a bureau in my library the Constitutional party in China would perish forthwith for want of leaders. But he won't get it. Thanks to your brother, Mrs. Paxton, his deadliest attack failed yesterday. For today's accident we have ourselves to blame. We did not even suspect that his malignity would take the form of shooting the first person who chanced to look out of a window."

He had halted at the top of the broad staircase while making that stirring declaration of war.

"Pardon my outspokenness," he said, sinking his voice to a lower tone. "I don't want to frighten my wife on my own account. She believes now that the police are hunting these scoundrels in every hole and corner of London. In a sense, that is true, but we never know the moment some extraordinary action may be taken, so we remain constantly on the qui vive."

He heard the telephone ring beneath, and turned quickly.

"I may be wanted," he said. "I'll join you presently. There is my wife's boudoir," and he pointed to a door. "Take Mrs. Paxton in, Theydon. Mrs. Forbes and Evelyn will be glad of your company."

Theydon knocked, and heard Evelyn's voice bidding him enter. Mrs. Forbes was lying on a couch, and her daughter had evidently been seated near her, reading a newspaper.

"I've brought my sister to see you," he explained. "I've been relating such heroic things about you that she simply refused to go home without ocular proof of your existence."

Mrs. Forbes would have risen, but was restrained by the girl's emphatic cry:

"Mother, why won't you behave like an obedient invalid?"

Thus coerced, "Mother" did behave.

"They insist on treating me as a casualty," she cried cheerfully. "What is your sister's name, Mr. Theydon?"

"Mollie," he said thoughtlessly, for he had just touched Evelyn Forbes's hand, and the mere contact gave him an electrical shock.

The women laughed, and Mrs. Paxton blushed.

"Mollie Paxton, at any rate," she said, realizing at once that her brother had completely lost all self-possession at sight of his divinity. "Now, as you are going to stay here, Frank, you shall give me the full measure of the few minutes I can spare, so go and talk over your adventures with Mr. Forbes while I gossip with the prisoners."

Theydon saw that his tactful sister had struck the right note. She might be trusted to make herself eminently agreeable. Her bright, smiling manner had already created a good impression, and a lively chat with one who had not passed through the vicissitudes which beset the Forbes family would be an excellent tonic.

"Before I efface myself, may I be allowed to congratulate Mrs. Forbes on her escape?" he said, halting at the door.

"Yes, you may," replied the older lady. "And, just to show that I am convalescent, kindly tell Tomlinson that I am coming down to luncheon, and that Mrs. Paxton will join us."

Forbes was leaving the telephone when Theydon regained the hall and explained that he had been dismissed from the feminine conclave upstairs. The millionaire closed the door and motioned his companion to a chair.

"How long will it be before London wakes up to the knowledge of what is going on in its midst?" he said. "Is there anything in the newspapers? I have had no time to read. I passed a rather sleepless night, so did not rise until a late hour. Then Helen was fired at. I need hardly tell you that my time has been fully occupied since."

Theydon gave a resume of the paragraph which had appeared in at least one of the morning journals, and admitted that some inkling of the truth was bound to gain publicity during the next few hours.

"I cannot understand why it is the reporters are not here by the score already," he went on. "Some passer-by must have seen or heard the shooting. A pistol cannot be fired in a quiet square like this without attracting general attention."

"That is the extraordinary part of it," said Forbes, smiling grimly. "People heard the noise, of course, but came to the conclusion that a cylinder in the car had back-fired. That was the view taken by two policemen on duty within a few yards of the house. A detective stationed in the cloakroom actually saw the man raising the weapon. He, of course, was under no delusion as to what had happened, and ran out instantly, but the car was then traveling at a fast pace, and was out of sight before the nearest constable could even endeavor to stop it. Anyhow, what was the man to do? We cannot expect that he would whip out a revolver, if he carries one, and blaze away indiscriminately at car and occupants if the chauffeur refused to pull up. Really, Theydon, Wong Li Fu has perplexed the authorities more than any desperado known to this generation. He is aware that his hostage has escaped from Croydon, so he calmly drives past my house, knowing full well that it is efficiently guarded, and fires a pot shot at the first person seen through one of the windows. The man whom I have spoken to over the telephone shares that opinion. He is one of the legal advisers of the Home Office. Just to show the baffling nature of the problem, he says that it will be absolutely impossible, on the evidence available at present, to frame a charge against any Chinaman other than Wong Li Fu. Yet we know that he has at least four or five, and probably three times as many, accomplices."

"Have the police yet obtained any real clew as to the whereabouts of the gang's headquarters? They must have some sort of meeting place. They must eat and sleep somewhere."

"That big detective, Winter, came here this morning. He seemed to be very confident, though I think I gave him the worst shock he has received for many a year when I informed him that within an hour after he had left the house Mrs. Forbes had been shot at, and narrowly escaped a fatal wound. It was he who asked me to invite you to come here. I'm exceedingly sorry that our acquaintance, begun so happily, should involve you in personal risk—"

"As for that," broke in Theydon, "I would not change places with any man in England at this moment."

He feared instantly that he might have said too much, and added with a laugh:

"Don't forget, Mr. Forbes, that I write books, some of them— the most popular ones, I am afraid— being of a sensational type. When this tornado has died down, and Wong Li Fu is carefully hanged, and you and your family are recuperating in Sutherlandshire, I shall resume work with a new inspiration. Never again shall I say to myself, 'Oh, that is too far-fetched,' or fear that I am straining my readers' credulity beyond bounds. If a small gang of Chinamen and Japanese can hold up London, bamboozle the best men in Scotland Yard, and keep a man of your position a prisoner in his own house, I need have no fear of adopting any situation my fertile brain can evolve, because four days ago I would have scoffed at the things which have actually happened as quite impossible and therefore unbelievable."

"Japanese, you say? Why do you mention Japanese?"

"The American, Mr. Handyside, tells me the skulls are of Japanese workmanship. He argues also that the wrestling tricks of which Winter and I, and Mrs. Forbes in lesser degree, have had some experience, are Japanese. More than that, a Jap was arrested outside my place early this morning."

"Mr. Winter said something about it, but he spoke only of Chinamen."

"I have Furneaux's authority for the statement that the prisoner is a Jap, and belongs to a society calling itself the 'Sons of Nippon.'"

"But confound it, I have no quarrel with Japan. If anything, I am one of her best friends."

"I must get Handyside to propound one of his favorite theories. He says that a powerful and growing party among our allies in the Far East means to keep China in a condition of anarchy until Japan is prepared, financially and in armament, to take a commanding share in the ultimate settlement. But, at best, the few Japanese adventurers in league with Wong Li Fu hardly count. Once he is laid by the heels this feud will evaporate into thin air."

"If it doesn't, I must ask the Government to provide safe quarters for my family in the Tower," muttered Forbes, rising and pacing the room in the same thoughtful, care-laden way as he had paced it when Theydon first told him of Edith Lester's end.

"You said Wong Li Fu knew that Mrs. Forbes had been rescued from her bonds last night," went on Theydon. "I suppose Winter told you that. Was he only assuming the fact, or have there been developments at Croydon?"

"A motor car drove up to the gate openly at ten o'clock this morning. A police sergeant, jumping to the conclusion that one of his own chiefs or a representative of Scotland Yard was paying the place a visit, incautiously showed himself in the doorway, whereupon the car raced away. It was an unfortunate and, perhaps, costly blunder, but the man is hardly to be blamed. The very audacity of the gang is their best safeguard."

A luncheon gong clanged in the hall. Both men started, and then laughed.

"You see," cried Forbes. "These rascals have got us on the jump. I don't know how long my servants will stand the racket. They are most loyal, and Tomlinson vows that not a syllable has been breathed outside by any of our domestics. But the women's nerves are on edge. A scullery maid dropped a decanter a little while since, and the crash drew bloodcurdling shrieks from the kitchen. Come, let us eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die. The quotation is not a felicitous one. Indeed, it is distinctly ominous, but it seems to meet the conditions."

He threw open the door, and saw the three ladies descending the stairs.

"Helena," he cried sternly, "the doctor said you were not to stir out of your room."

"My dear, the doctor is a mere man, and fancies that a woman is not fitted for warfare. He is quite mistaken. When aroused we can be terrible."

Mrs. Forbes, whose face was paler and eyes seemingly bigger and more luminous than usual, was leaning on Evelyn's arm. She was dressed in a blue tulle costume which lent a fragile air to an already slender form, but she smiled so unaffectedly that even the policeman grinned.

"You certainly look ferocious," said her husband, yielding instantly, as she well knew would happen.

"I believe you are all jealous," she vowed. "I am the only one who has really been in the forefront of the battle. No. I forgot you, Mr. Theydon. Didn't that horrid man knock you down?"

"Yes," said Theydon, moistening his lips with his tongue. There was such a peculiar rasp in his voice that it evoked a general laugh.

Obviously the guests meant to avoid serious topics during the meal. Evelyn Forbes chimed in with a reminiscence of her schooldays in Brussels, and soon the talk was general, ranging from the year's Academy to the Ladies' Gold Championship.

Mrs. Paxton, an excellent mimic, was amusing them with imitations of the voice and manner of a certain well-known lady golfer, when she was interrupted by three sharp, irregular cracks which seemed to come from the dining-room windows. Simultaneously a picture frame on the opposite wall was split and a Worcester vase on a sideboard was smashed to atoms.

Theydon, owing to his position at the table, was the first to notice three small, starred holes in the plate glass of the windows.

"Don't stand up!" he said, instantly. "Some one is shooting at the house. Crouch on the floor, for Heaven's sake!"

That urgent appeal was emphasized by a fourth bullet, which, taking a lower flight, barely missed Forbes, upset a Venetian glass flower vase on the table, and buried itself in the lower half of the sideboard.

Forbes, heedless of the possible consequences to himself, sprang to his wife's assistance, and, interposing his body as a shield between her and the windows, led her to an angle of the wall where she would be safe. The younger women, after a momentary hesitation, dropped to the floor and crawled to the same refuge. Theydon ran out. The front door was open.

The police had heard the shooting, the sound of which had been deadened to those in the dining room by the breaking glass and china. But within a few minutes a useless pursuit was abandoned. The fusillade had come from a car which halted close to the garden railings on the far side of the square. Though the trees were nearly in full leaf, and dense shrubberies seemed to shut off every house from any such method of attack, investigation proved that it was possible to estimate accurately the position of the dining-room windows in No. 11.

When Theydon returned he found Forbes and the ladies gathered in the hall.

"Another narrow escape on both sides," he said coolly. "Two policemen were just too late to interfere. Of course, they did not anticipate a move in that quarter."

"Have the— er— enemy made off in a car?" said Mrs. Forbes.

"Yes. A constable in a taxi is trying to follow them."

"Well, then, let us finish our luncheon. I had hardly touched my cutlet."

"By Jove, Helena, that doctor of ours was decidedly in error," cried her husband. "You're right. If we're besieged we must carry ourselves according to the code. Mrs. Paxton, I hope it won't disturb you if a shell bursts before coffee is served!"

Theydon glanced through a window before resuming his seat.

"That volley has done things!" he announced. "London is stirring at last. There's a crowd in front of the house, and a short, fat man is explaining the procedure. Prepare now to receive the press in battalions."