ible, the
attempt was hopeless.

Circling about the house, in the shadow of the shrubbery, Bert studied
the location of the room that the Chinaman had pointed out as the
library. It was on the second floor, and a broad veranda surrounded the
house, about two feet beneath the window. Near by, a giant tree upreared
its branches. With a parting word of caution, Bert shied up the tree
with the agility of a cat. He ensconced himself firmly on a projecting
branch, and peered through the heavy foliage.

The room into which he looked was a spacious one and furnished with all
the sumptuousness of Eastern luxury. Exquisite tapestries draped the
walls, and priceless jades and porcelains bespoke the taste as well as
the wealth of the owner. Quaint weapons and suits of armor, doubtless
worn at some time by a shogun or samurai ancestor gave a touch of
grimness to a beauty and delicacy of ornament that might otherwise have
been excessive.

At a magnificent library table of ebony, inlaid with pearl, a man was
seated with his head on his hand, in an attitude of profound thought.
His left hand, playing with the ivory handle of a dagger that lay on the
desk, betrayed a certain restlessness, as though he were waiting for
someone. From time to time he raised his head, as if listening. At last
he threw himself back in his chair with a gesture of impatience, and,
with unseeing eyes, looked out of the window. And now, Bert, from his
leafy covert, could study his face at leisure.

It was a typical Japanese face, with the high cheekbones and slanting
eyes that marked his race. But nothing could hide the proofs of breeding
and culture that were revealed in every feature. It was the face of a
statesman, a scholar, a warrior, a prince. The habit of command was
stamped upon it, and in his eyes glowed a spirit of resolution that
almost reached fanaticism. Bert felt instinctively that here was a
foeman worthy of any man's steel, a formidable enemy who would sweep away
like chaff anything that stood between him and the accomplishment of his
purpose.

Once or twice, Bert had seen him in Colon, a notable figure even in a
town at that time filled with notables. No one seemed to know much about
him. Three years ago, he had appeared in Panama and purchased a large
landed estate. He had spent enormous sums in developing it, until it had
become famous throughout the Isthmus for its extent and beauty. That the
owner was fabulously wealth