e, Mr. Hartley? Did Mr. Heath
tell you that he had seen me?"

Hartley stared at his feet.

"Heath has got Burma head, too, and won't tell me anything. It might
help his memory if you were able to say whether you had seen him or not
that evening."

Mrs. Wilder's fine eyes glittered into a smile that was not exactly
mirthful or pleasant.

"I don't see that I can possibly say one way or another. I often do
. . . I often do see him going about the native quarter when I ride
through, but I do not write it down in my book, so it is quite
impossible for me to say."

"Anyhow, you saw Absalom?"

"Oh, yes, I saw the boy. What a persistent man you are, and you haven't
told me a word yourself."

"Absalom was to have got a gold lacquer bowl that you ordered from
Mhtoon Pah?"

"Quite correct," laughed Mrs. Wilder with more of her usual manner.
"That old Barabbas has never sent it to me yet, either. I ordered it a
month ago. I love lacquer because it looks like nothing else, and
particularly gold lacquer."

"Well, all I can tell you is that Absalom had an order from Mhtoon Pah
to get the bowl the next morning, if it was to be got, and he went away
as usual the night of the twenty-ninth, and never appeared again. Heath
saw him, and you saw him, and that is pretty nearly all the evidence I
can collect."

"Evidence?" Mrs. Wilder's voice had a piercing note in it.

"Yes, evidence. You see the only way to trace a man is to find out
exactly who saw him last, and where."

"Ah, I see. You find out what everyone was doing, and where they were,
and you piece the bits in. It's like a jig-saw, and how very interesting
it must be."

Hartley laughed.

"Not what the other people were doing exactly, but where they were. It
is something to know that you saw the boy, but I wish you could remember
if you saw Heath."

Mrs. Wilder got up and walked to the window.

"I do hope he will be found. Did he take my lacquer bowl with him?"

"He had not got it," said Hartley, in his steady, matter-of-fact voice.

"Are you _worried_ about it?" She turned and looked across the room.
"Why should you be? If Absalom has chosen to leave, I really don't see
why he shouldn't be allowed to go in peace."

"I don't know that he did _choose_ to leave; that is just the point."

He was longing to ask her another question about Heath, and yet he did
not like to press her.

"Here are some callers," she remarked, and then, with a short laugh, "I
wonder