aster."

"It is a poor tale, a paltry tale," said the Burman, in tones of
disgust. "One that hardly requites me for my patience in hearing it
out."

He slipped his knife back into his belt and got up from his heels with a
leisurely movement. The boy, still on all fours, watched him closely,
and the Burman, his eye attracted by a bright tin kettle hanging among
the other goods dependent from the ceiling, stood looking at it, and as
he looked the boy dodged out with a rush, overturning a bale of goods,
and tearing at the door like a mad dog, disappeared into the street.

Coryndon watched him go, and went back to his corner to wait until Leh
Shin should return from either the gambling den or the Joss House. He
had something to say to Leh Shin, something that could not wait to be
said, and he composed himself to the necessary patience that is part of
all close, careful search, and while he waited, he turned over the
evidence that had arisen from the little clue that Joicey had given him.
Absalom had a parcel under his arm, and that parcel was the gold lacquer
bowl that had passed from Mhtoon Pah's curio shop to Mrs. Wilder's
writing-table.

Coryndon fiddled with his fingers in the dust of the floor, and took a
blood-stained rag out of his pocket and spread it over his knee. Here
was another tangible piece of evidence brought by Mhtoon Pah to Hartley.
So the record of circumstance closed in. Coryndon thought again. A
lacquer bowl and a stained rag of silk, that was all. If he handed over
the case to Hartley and Mhtoon Pah was really guilty, other evidence
would in all probability be found, and the whole mystery made clear.

He leaned against the wall and watched the throbbing lamp-wick, fighting
his passion for completed work and his conviction that only he could see
it through to its ultimate conclusion. He knew that he was dealing with
wits quite as crafty as his own, and argued the point from the other
side. Mhtoon Pah had given the rag himself to Hartley, and had sworn
that the bowl was left on the steps of his shop. If no further proof was
forthcoming, these two facts unsupported were almost worthless. Unless a
complete denial of his story could be set against it, Hartley stood to
be checkmated.

Coryndon had nearly decided against Leh Shin. He drew his knees up under
his chin and came to a definite conclusion. He could not give up the
case as it stood; he was absolved from any hint of professional
jealousy, and