ategory of their faults. So, with this little valet, who improved
his time, as Shirley had discovered, by taking special courses in
Columbia University's scientific department. The criminologist had used
him on more than one occasion when Eastern subtlety and apparent lack of
guile had accomplished the impossible!

The closet door was closed, and Shirley went downstairs. At the desk of
the, club clerk he sent a cablegram to the police authorities of Paris.
The message was simple

"Cable collect to Holland Detective Agency name and record of man in
Montfleury case, August, 1914. Do you want him?................. Cronin,
Captain."

Shirley smiled as he handed the envelope to the little messenger who had
been summoned, and made his exit through the front doorway just as the
affable Reginald Warren entered it: another instance of "ships that pass
in the night," was the thought of the host who advanced courteously.

"You are on time to the minute: German training, I see. Let the boy have
your hat and coat, Mr. Warren."

These little amenities completed, they sauntered about the beautiful
building, Shirley pointing out the many interesting photographs of
athletic teams, trophies, club posters, portraits of famous graduates,
and the like, which seem part and parcel of collegiate atmosphere.
Warren was profoundly interested, yet there was an abstraction in his
conversation which was not unobserved by his entertainer. As they passed
a tall, colonial clock in the broad hallway, Shirley caught him glancing
uneasily at it. This was the second time he had looked at its silvered
face since they came into the range of it. Purposely the club man took
him down the length of the big dining-hall, to exhibit the trophies of
the hunt, from jungles and polar regions, contributed by the sportsmen
members of past classes. Here Shirley chatted about this and that boar's
head, yonder elephant hide, the other tiger skin, until he had consumed
additional time. As they passed into the lounging room Shirley led his
guest past another small mahogany clock. Again the sharp, anxious
glance at the progress of the minutes. He was convinced by now that some
deviltry was being perfected on schedule time. He began to worry over
his little assistant on the floor high above: perhaps he would not be
able to cope with the plotters, after all. Yet, Chen was wiry, cunning,
and needed no diagrams as to the purpose for which he was to guard the
rooms.

At la