"Ojeebi? Who is he?"

"My father's Japanese valet," put in young Drake. "Been with him for
the past five years. If he tells you that he saw Lord Fallowfield
go into his room and lock the door after him, you can rely upon that
as an absolute and irrefutable truth. 'Whitest' little yellow man
that ever walked on two feet; faithful as a dog, and as truthful as
they make 'em."

"And they don't make 'em any too truthful, as a rule, in his country,
by Jove!" said Cleek. "Still, of course, as he could not possibly
have anything to gain----Call him up, will you, and let us hear what
he has to say with regard to Lord Fallowfield's statement."

Young Drake rang for a servant, issued the necessary order, and
some five or six minutes later a timid little yellow man with the
kindest face and the most gentle step a man could possess came into
the room, his soft eyes reddened with much weeping, and tear-stains
marking his sallow cheeks.

"Oh, Mr. Jim! Oh, Mr. Jim! the dear, kind old 'boss'! He gone! he
gone!" he broke out disconsolately as he caught sight of his late
master's son, and made as if to prostrate himself before him.

"That's all right, Ojeebi--that's all right, old man!" interrupted
young Drake, with a smothered "blub" in his voice and a twitching
movement of his mouth. "Cut it out! I'm not iron. Say, this gentleman
wants to ask you a few questions, Ojeebi; deliver the goods just as
straight as you know how."

"Me, Mr. Jim? Gentleman want question me?" The small figure turned,
the kindly face lifted, and the sorrowful eyes looked up into Cleek's
unemotional ones.

"Yes," said he placidly; and forthwith told him what Lord Fallowfield
claimed.

"That very true," declared Ojeebi. "The lord gentleman he right ahead
of me. I see him go into his room and hear him lock door. That very
true indeed."

"H'm! Any idea of the time?"

"Yes--much idea. Two minutes a-past twelve. I see clock as I go past
Lady Marj'ie's room."

"What were you doing knocking about that part of the house at that
hour of the night? Your room's up here in the servant's quarters,
isn't it?"

"Yes, sir. But I go take ice-water to the boss's room. Boss never
go to bed nights without ice-water handy, sir. 'Merican boss never
do."

"Yes! Quite so, quite so! Where did you get the ice from--and how?
Chop it from a big cake?"

"No, sir. It always froze to fit bottle. I get him from the ice-make
room downstairs."

"He means the refrigerating