he failed to trace any symptom of apprehension.
This Sin Sin Wa, accomplice of a murderess self-confessed, evident head
of a drug syndicate which had led to the establishment of a Home office
inquiry--this badly "wanted" man, whose last hiding-place, whose keep,
was closely invested by the agents of the law, was the same Sin Sin Wa
who had smilingly extended his wrists, inviting the manacles, when
Kerry had first made his acquaintance under circumstances legally very
different.

Sometimes Kerry could hear him singing his weird crooning song, and
twice Mrs. Sin had shrieked blasphemous execrations at him because of
it. But why should Sin Sin Wa sing? What hope had he of escape? In the
case of any other criminal Kerry would have answered "None," but the
ease with which this one-eyed singing Chinaman had departed from his
abode under the very noses of four detectives had shaken the Chief
Inspector's confidence in the efficiency of ordinary police methods
where this Chinese conjurer was concerned. A man who could convert an
elaborate opium house into a dirty ruin in so short a time, too, was
capable of other miraculous feats, and it would not have surprised Kerry
to learn that Sin Sin Wa, at a moment's notice, could disguise himself
as a chest of tea, or pass invisible through solid walls.

For evidence that Seton Pasha or any of the men from Scotland Yard had
penetrated to the secret of Sam Tuk's cellar Kerry listened in vain.
What was about to happen he could not imagine, nor if his life was to
be spared. In the confession so curiously extorted from Mrs. Sin by her
husband he perceived a clue to this and other mysteries, but strove in
vain to disentangle it from the many maddening complexities of the case.

So he mused, wearily, listening to the moaning of his fellow captive,
and wondering, since no sign of life came thence, why he imagined
another presence in the stuffy room or the presence of someone or of
some thing on the divan behind him. And in upon these dreary musings
broke an altercation between Mrs. Sin and her husband.

"Keep the blasted thing covered up!" she cried hoarsely.

"Tling-a-Ling wantchee catchee bleathee sometime," crooned Sin Sin Wa.

"Hello, hello!" croaked the raven drowsily.
"Smartest--smartest--smartest leg."

"You catchee sleepee, Tling-a-Ling," murmured the Chinaman. "Mrs. Sin no
likee you palaber, lo!"

"Burn it!" cried the woman, "burn the one-eyed horror!"

But when, carrying a l