“You are not lacking in observation.” “It is part of my stock in trade. And it’s a faculty the possession of which depends upon one’s constant exercise of it.” “No doubt. But when we found that you did not keep the supposed appointment, Yo suggested that I meet you at Union Square, according to the general understanding, as there might be reasons why you would not want to be seen at the ‘East.’ I had waited more than an hour when you came along; and when you did not stop, I thought you might be followed.” “Would there be any use in our going to the Far East now?” asked Kenyon. “Of course,” eagerly. “They are anxious to see you, for there are many points that they desire to make clear.” “That is just what I’m after,” replied Kenyon. And for an instant he feared the result of his words; for he had allowed, unconsciously, a great deal of significance to creep into them. But Forrester did not catch this; apparently he was too much engaged with his own purposes. “It’s no great distance from here,” he said, “and we might as well walk.” “That suits me,” returned Kenyon, promptly. And so they struck eastward along Canal and turned down an ill-lit street which was strange to the ex-lieutenant of Nunez. A maze of alleys and narrow ways were traversed, Forrester leading the way. And as they hurried on, Kenyon gradually became obsessed with the notion that a dark figure was lurking in their track. Several times he was upon the point of mentioning the matter to Forrester; but each time he thought better of it. “It might be a little private arrangement of his own,” reasoned Kenyon, silently. “This would be a most excellent neighborhood for an artistic piece of assassination, and I shouldn’t wonder if that was his friend the Stalker back there. But,” and he gave a quick, puzzled look over his shoulder, “somehow I can’t get quite rid of the impression that it’s a woman.” At any rate he quietly drew off his right-hand glove; and there was much comfort in the feel of the long, heavy Colt buried so deeply in his overcoat pocket. IX KENYON GOES BLINDLY ON “Mott Street is as safe as Fifth Avenue--but you must keep your eyes open.” --_The Lieutenant in Chinatown._ THROUGH the dim, chasm-like streets Kenyon followed Forrester; and always there clung to him the feeling that there was lurking along, in the thicker shadows behind them, a soft-footed someone whose intentions were as unknown as him- or her-self. The section was strange to Kenyon. Overhead the mist seemed to cling stickily to a wilderness of fire-escapes, and by degrees the air became impregnated with a peculiar odor. “It’s decidedly Asiatic,” commented Kenyon, as he sniffed this. “Unless I am very much mistaken we are approaching New York’s Chinatown.” “You are right,” answered Forrester. “We’ll be in the midst of it in a moment.”