Then Kenyon felt the girl brush by him through the doorway. Farbush sprang up, as he caught the movement, shouting: “Stop her!” Hong Yo came weakly to his feet, his fleshless hands clawing the air; Farbush and the coolies leaped forward, but Kenyon’s stalwart form blocked their way. “I think,” said the young adventurer, quietly, “that it is best that she should go. I have something to say to you, gentlemen, that it would be as well to go over in private.” They halted, glaring at him, as he stood leaning nonchalantly against the door-frame. His top-coat had fallen open, showing his immaculate evening dress, his level eyes were fixed steadfastly upon them; his right hand secretly caressed the grip of the long revolver. And from somewhere in the building came the sound of racing feet which constantly grew fainter and fainter. XI THE SECOND NIGHT ENDS “Keep cool, and always hold your guard high.” --_Kenyon’s “Art of the Sabre.”_ AT last the receding footsteps of the girl and Forrester died away altogether; Kenyon, in spite of his icy exterior, had been filled with a nameless dread, but now experienced a quick sense of relief. Hong Yo and Farbush stood looking at him, mingled wonder and rage in their faces. “Now,” spoke Kenyon, in a business-like tone, “if you will get rid of the worthy Sing Wang and his friends, I will come to the matter in hand.” “One moment.” It was Hong Yo that spoke and his slit-like eyes seemed even more narrow than ever. “There is but one way of explaining this,” indicating the gaping doorway in a way that showed that he referred to the part Kenyon had just played in the girl’s departure. “Only one way!” Kenyon smiled enigmatically. “And is that one way not sufficient?” he demanded. For a moment Hong Yo stood looking at him in silence, and Kenyon noticed that the grim mouth of Farbush grew straighter and harder. Then the Chinaman motioned to Sing Wang and the two coolies, and pointed silently toward the body. Then he led Kenyon and Farbush into another room. “Sit down,” said Hong Yo, huskily. All three seated themselves at a table. Kenyon was careful to select a chair facing the door, for he had not forgotten the creepy feeling that Forrester had given him when that personage had crept up behind him a few moments before. Then Hong Yo seemed to recollect something. “Pardon me,” said he, “I had forgotten that you two had not met before. Mr. Kenyon--Mr. Farbush.” The two nodded an acknowledgment, examining each other closely. “And so you found it necessary to tell him,” then said Hong Yo, incredulously. Kenyon nodded. He had not the faintest notion what was meant, but followed the plan of indirection in his answers which had so far served him so well. When he broke into the room a short time before he had had but two objects in his mind, to rescue the girl and force a “show down” from the murderers at the point of his revolver.