gue, as the man suddenly
disappeared--"the house with the green window-sashes. That will be
number thirteen."

It was; and, having verified the fact, we passed on, and took the next
turning that would lead us back to the main road.

Some twenty minutes later, as we were strolling past the door of a
coffee-shop, a man came out, and began to fill his pipe with an air of
leisurely satisfaction. His hat and clothes were powdered with white
like those of the workmen whom we had seen come out of the factory.
Thorndyke accosted him.

"Is that a flour-mill up the road there?"

"No, sir; pearl-shell. I work there myself."

"Pearl-shell, eh?" said Thorndyke. "I suppose that will be an industry
that will tend to attract the aliens. Do you find it so?"

"No, sir; not at all. The work's too hard. We've only got one foreigner
in the place, and he ain't an alien--he's a Jap."

"A Jap!" exclaimed Thorndyke. "Really. Now, I wonder if that would
chance to be our old friend Kotei--you remember Kotei?" he added,
turning to me.

"No, sir; this man's name is Futashima. There was another Jap in the
works, a chap named Itu, a pal of Futashima's, but he's left."

"Ah! I don't know either of them. By the way, usen't there to be a
cab-yard just about here?"

"There's a yard up Rankin Street where they keep vans and one or two
cabs. That chap Itu works there now. Taken to horseflesh. Drives a van
sometimes. Queer start for a Jap."

"Very." Thorndyke thanked the man for his information, and we sauntered
on towards Rankin Street. The yard was at this time nearly deserted,
being occupied only by an ancient and crazy four-wheeler and a very
shabby hansom.

"Curious old houses, these that back on to the yard," said Thorndyke,
strolling into the enclosure. "That timber gable, now," pointing to a
house, from a window of which a man was watching us suspiciously, "is
quite an interesting survival."

"What's your business, mister?" demanded the man in a gruff tone.

"We are just having a look at these quaint old houses," replied
Thorndyke, edging towards the back of the hansom, and opening his
pocket-book, as though to make a sketch.

"Well, you can see 'em from outside," said the man.

[Illustration: THORNDYKE'S STRATEGY.]

"So we can," said Thorndyke suavely, "but not so well, you know."

At this moment the pocket-book slipped from his hand and fell,
scattering a number of loose papers about the ground under the hansom,
and our fri