g eyes at
something upon the floor near one of the windows. He picked it up, and
handed it to me. "What do you make of that?" he asked, in a startled
voice, handing me what appeared to be a small piece of tough Chinese
paper. Upon it was inscribed, in black, a single Chinese letter. I
glanced at it, then handed it back, with the remark that I could make
nothing of it.

"It is the symbol of the god," he said, "the Buddha. The same sign was
engraved upon the base of the emerald figure, and I saw it in the temple
at Ping Yang, upon the temple decorations. What is it doing here?" Then
his face lighted up with a sudden idea. He rushed to the door, and
opened it. "Gibson," he called peremptorily, to his man without, "find
Li Min and bring him here at once. Don't let him out of your sight for a
moment."

The man was gone ten minutes or more, during which time Major Temple
walked excitedly up and down the room, muttering continually something
about the police.

"They must be notified," I said, at last. He turned to me with a queer,
half-frightened look. "They can do no good, no good, whatever," he
cried. "This is the work of one of the Chinese secret societies. They
are the cleverest criminals in the world. I have lived among them, and I
know."

"Even the cleverest criminals in the world couldn't bolt a door or
window from the outside," I said.

"Do not be too sure of that. I have known them to do things equally
strange. By inserting a thin steel wedge between the edge of the door
and the jamb they might with infinite patience work the bolt to one
side or the other. This fellow, Li Min, I brought from China with me. He
is one of the most faithful servants I have ever known. He belongs to
the higher orders of society--I mean that he is not of the peasant or
coolie class. He represented to me that he was suspected of belonging to
the Reform Association, the enemies of the prevailing order of things,
and was obliged to leave the country to save his head. I do not know, I
do not know--possibly he may have been sent to watch. They knew in Ping
Yang that I was after the emerald Buddha. Who knows? They are an amazing
people--an amazing people." He turned to me suddenly. "Did you hear any
footsteps or other noises in the hallway during the night?"

I told him that I thought I had, but that I could not be sure, that my
sleep had been troubled, but that I had only awakened a few minutes
before I heard Ashton's cry. At this moment