nce, here." She rested her hand upon her heart. "And he falls--and
he coughs. He lie still. For him it is finished. That devil heart has
ceased to beat. Ah!"

She threw up her hands, and:

"That is all. I tell you no more."

"One thing more," said Harley sternly; "the name of the man who killed
Kwen Lung?"

At that Ma Lorenzo slowly raised her head and folded her arms across her
bosom. There was something one could never forget in the expression of
her fat face.

"Not if you burn me alive!" she answered in a low voice. "No one ever
knows that--from me."

She sank on to the divan and buried her face in her hands. Her fat
shoulders shook grotesquely; and Harley stood perfectly still staring
across at her for fully a minute. I could hear voices in the street
outside and the hum of traffic in Limehouse Causeway.

Then my friend did a singular thing. Walking over to the gilded joss
he reclosed the opening and not without a great effort pushed the great
idol back against the wall.

"There are times, Knox," he said, staring at me oddly, "when I'm glad
that I am not an official agent of the law."

While I watched him dumfounded he walked across to the woman and touched
her on the shoulder. She raised her tear-stained face.

"All right," she whispered. "I am ready."

"Get ready as soon as you like," said he tersely.

"I'll have the man removed who is watching the house, and you can reckon
on forty-eight hours to make yourself scarce."

With never another word he seized me by the arm and hurried me out
of the place! Ten paces along the street a shabby-looking fellow was
standing, leaning against a pillar. Harley stopped, and:

"Even the greatest men make mistakes sometimes, Hewitt," he remarked.
"I'm throwing up the case; probably Inspector Wessex will do the same.
Good morning."

On towards the Causeway he led me--for not a word was I capable of
uttering; and just before we reached that artery of Chinatown, from
down-river came the deep, sustained note of a steamer's siren, the
warning of some big liner leaving dock.

"That will be the Patna," said Harley. "She sails at twelve o'clock, I
think you said?"

MAN WITH THE SHAVEN SKULL

I

A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE

"Pull that light lower," ordered Inspector Wessex. "There you are, Mr.
Harley; what do you make of it?"

Paul Harley and I bent gingerly over the ghastly exhibit to which
the C.I.D. official had drawn our attention, and to