s Carl Bradley?" Weiss asked.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard of him, Julius. He has a considerable
reputation as an ethnologist. He and Paul Warren and I were in school
together. We lost track of him for a while, then he wrote from China. He
had spent several years inland, living with the Chinese, as one of them.
He produced some immensely valuable studies. Those, and his rather
remarkable ability to speak and act like a Chinese earned him the
nickname of 'Chinese Bradley.' He had lived most of his life since
school in one part of Asia or another. But I'm sure I can't guess what
his connection is with this special job of Steve's, or how he happened
to become Chahda's boss."

"Or why he's missing," Barby added.

The cable had created a mystery that demanded a solution, but no amount
of discussion answered the questions it raised. Finally, Mrs. Brant
broke up the debate by pointedly remarking on the lateness of the hour.
Reluctantly, the family started for bed.

As Rick undressed, he continued the discussion through the door
connecting his room and Scotty's. "Chahda's pretty sure we'll hurry to
Hong Kong."

"Is he wrong?" Scotty demanded.

"I don't know," Rick said. "It depends on a lot of things. We can't go
unless we get jobs, and Steve evidently didn't say anything to Dad about
the rest of the staff, including us."

"Dad hasn't even said he'll go," Scotty reminded.

"Doesn't saying he has reconsidered mean that he'll go?"

"Could be. Or maybe it just means he's willing to talk some more about
it. We should have pinned him down."

"We will," Rick said. "In the morning."

He lay awake for long hours, staring into the darkness and trying to
piece together Chahda's references to a golden mouse, a Chinese with a
glass eye, and a long shadow. It was no use. But there was no mistaking
the urgency of his friend's plea.

Where was Chahda now? At a guess, somewhere between Singapore and Hong
Kong. But whether by land or sea or air, Rick couldn't imagine. Nor
could he even venture a wild guess at what kind of danger Chahda faced.

After a long time he fell asleep, but it was fitful sleep broken by
frequent awakenings.

In the morning, the discussion resumed over breakfast, bringing forth
wild speculations from Barby. Rick had to grin at her flights of fancy.

"One thing seems sure," Scotty offered. "Chahda was in a big hurry."

"What makes you think so?" Mrs. Brant asked. "Barby! Please stop feeding
Dismal