e ahead, then," said Joicey, whose very evident resentment was by no
means abated. "Ask your question, if it is a question."

"I am coming to that presently. Before I do I want you to understand,
Mr. Joicey, that, like you, I am a servant of the public, and I am at
present employed in gathering together evidence that throws any light
upon the doings of three people on the night of July the twenty-ninth."

"Then you are wasting valuable time," said Joicey defiantly. "I was away
from Mangadone on that night."

"I am quite aware that you told Hartley so."

Coryndon's voice was perfectly even and level, but hot anger flamed up
in the bloodshot eyes of Craven Joicey.

"I put it to you that you made a mistake," went on Coryndon, "and that
in the interests of justice you will now be able to tell me that you
remember where you were and what you were doing on that night."

Joicey thrust his hands deep into his pockets, his heavy shoulders bent,
and his face dogged.

"I am prepared to swear on oath that I was not in Mangadone on the night
of July the twenty-ninth."

"Not in Mangadone, Mr. Joicey. Mangadone proper ends at the tram lines;
the district beyond is known as Bhononie."

Coryndon could see that his shot told. There were yellow patches around
Joicey's eyes, and a purple shadow passed across his face, leaving it
leaden.

"Unless I can complete my case by other means, you will be called as a
witness to prove certain facts in connection with the disappearance of
the boy Absalom on the night of July the twenty-ninth."

"Who is going to call me?"

The question was curt, and Joicey's defiance was still strong, but there
was a certain huskiness in his voice that betrayed a very definite fear.

"Leh Shin, the Chinaman, will call you. His neck will be inside a noose,
Mr. Joicey, and he will need your evidence to save his life."

"Leh Shin? That man would swear anything. His word is worthless against
mine," said the Banker, raising his voice noisily. "If that is another
specimen of Secret Service bluff, it won't do. Won't do, d'you hear?"

Coryndon tapped his fingers on the writing-table.

"I can't agree with you in your conclusion that it 'won't do.' Taken
alone his statement may be worthless, but taken in connection with the
fact that you are in the habit of visiting his opium den by the river,
it would be difficult to persuade any judge that he was lying. I myself
have seen you going in there and coming out."