per, Wah Lee knew nothing, except that a white man, who
spoke English, was a frequent visitor to his master, with whom he held
long conferences. Only yesterday, on leaving the house after dark, he
had accidentally dropped the plan, and Wah Lee, hovering near, had picked
it up. A vague idea that it might be of value to Bert and prompted him
to bring it to him.

This was the sum of the Chinaman's knowledge. He simply knew that his
"bloss" was engaged in some kind of a plan to kill the Canal.

But Bert must know more than this--the nature of the plan, the people
involved in it, the methods employed for it, the time set for its
execution. Then, only, could the proper steps be taken to thwart it.
How could this knowledge be obtained? Not by Wah Lee. He had
accidentally stumbled upon it, and while this, of course, was an
inestimable service, abler minds than his must unravel the details.

Whatever was to be done must be done quickly. Time was a factor of prime
importance. Bert looked up at the sky. The sun was near its setting.
Night would come on suddenly.

With the rapid resolution that was one of his chief characteristics, Bert
made up his mind.

"Make tracks for home, Wah Lee," he said. "I'm coming with you."

The Chinaman made no demur and expressed no surprise. He led the way and
Bert followed, racking his brain for the best thing to do. His plans
took shape quickly. By the time they drew near the grounds, darkness had
enveloped them like a blanket. He halted the Chinaman and talked to him
in whispers.

He must get into the house, without being seen. Where did the talks with
the white man take place? In the library. Very well. Was there any
place where he, Bert, could be concealed and hear what went on?

But here the Oriental departed from his wonted calm. There was too much
risk. Bert would be killed. His master had men in the house who obeyed
him absolutely. If he merely lifted his finger, they would kill one man
or twenty men.

But Bert was not to be deterred from his purpose. He had embarked on
this venture, and, live or die, he would see it through to a finish. He
cut short the protestations of the frightened Celestial and commanded him
to show him the nearest way to the library.

There was no way, Wah Lee averred. The house swarmed with servants, and
detection would be certain. Every window and every room in the mansion
was ablaze with light. Unless he could make himself invis