ed him. It was not Shan Tung. To his
amazement, coming to him through the tumult of the storm, he recognized
the voice of Miriam Kirkstone!

VII

Why should Miriam Kirkstone call him up in an hour when the sky was
livid with the flash of lightning and the earth trembled with the roll
of thunder? This was the question that filled Keith's mind as he
listened to the voice at the other end of the wire. It was pitched to a
high treble as if unconsciously the speaker feared that the storm might
break in upon her words. She was telling him that she had telephoned
McDowell but had been too late to catch him before he left for Brady's
bungalow; she was asking him to pardon her for intruding upon his time
so soon after his return, but she was sure that he would understand
her. She wanted him to come up to see her that evening at eight
o'clock. It was important--to her. Would he come?

Before Keith had taken a moment to consult with himself he had replied
that he would. He heard her "thank you," her "good-by," and hung up the
receiver, stunned. So far as he could remember, he had spoken no more
than seven words. The beautiful young woman up at the Kirkstone mansion
had clearly betrayed her fear of the lightning by winding up her
business with him at the earliest possible moment. Why, then, had she
not waited until the storm was over?

A pounding at the door interrupted his thought. He went to it and
admitted an individual who, in spite of his water-soaked condition, was
smiling all over. It was Wallie, the Jap. He was no larger than a boy
of sixteen, and from eyes, ears, nose, and hair he was dripping
streams, while his coat bulged with packages which he had struggled to
protect, from the torrent through which he had forced his way up the
hill. Keith liked him on the instant. He found himself powerless to
resist the infection of Wallie's grin, and as Wallie hustled into the
kitchen like a wet spaniel, he followed and helped him unload. By the
time the little Jap had disgorged his last package, he had assured
Keith that the rain was nice, that his name was Wallie, that he
expected five dollars a week and could cook "like heaven." Keith
laughed outright, and Wallie was so delighted with the general outlook
that he fairly kicked his heels together. Thereafter for an hour or so
he was left alone in possession of the kitchen, and shortly Keith began
to hear certain sounds and catch occasional odoriferous whiffs which
assur