ained facts, he condemned
himself for a stupidity passing the ordinary. For while he had conducted
a careful search of the wharf and adjoining premises, convinced that
there was a cellar of some kind below, he had omitted to look for a
water-gate to this hypothetical cache.

Perhaps his self-condemnation was deserved, but in justice to the agent
selected by Lord Wrexborough, it should be added that Chief Inspector
Kerry had no more idea of the existence of such an entrance, and exit,
than had Seton Pasha.

Leaving the dog at Leman Street then, and learning that there was no
news of the missing Chief Inspector, Seton had set out once more. He had
been informed of the mysterious signals flashed from side to side of the
Lower Pool, and was hourly expecting a report to the effect that Sin
Sin Wa had been apprehended in the act of escaping. That Sin Sin Wa
had dropped into the turgid tide from his underground hiding-place,
and pushing his property--which was floatable--before him, encased in a
waterproof bag, had swum out and clung to the stern of George Martin's
boat as it passed close to the empty wharf, neither Seton Pasha nor any
other man knew--except George Martin and Sin Sin Wa.

At a suitably dark spot the Chinaman had boarded the little craft, not
without difficulty, for his wounded shoulder pained him, and had changed
his sodden attire for a dry outfit which awaited him in the locker at
the stern of the skiff. The cunning of the Chinese has the simplicity of
true genius.

Not two paces had Seton taken on to the mystifying wharf when:

"Sam Tuk barber! Entrance in cellar!" rapped a ghostly, muffled voice
from beneath his feet. "Sam Tuk barber! Entrance in cellar!"

Seton Pasha stood still, temporarily bereft of speech. Then, "Kerry!" he
cried. "Kerry! Where are you?"

But apparently his voice failed to reach the invisible speaker, for:

"Sam Tuk barber! Entrance in cellar!" repeated the voice.

Seton Pasha wasted no more time. He ran out into the narrow street. A
man was on duty there.

"Call assistance!" ordered Seton briskly, "Send four men to join me at
the barber's shop called Sam Tuk's! You know it?"

"Yes, sir; I searched it with Chief Inspector Kerry."

The note of a police whistle followed.

Ten minutes later the secret of Sam Tuk's cellar was unmasked. The place
was empty, and the subterranean door locked; but it succumbed to the
persistent attacks of axe and crowbar, and Seton Pasha was the