“But as it happens it didn’t. He is a practical sort of a person, and takes very little for granted.” “And the old man thought him a dreamer!” cried Farbush, opening his eyes. “Did the old man really know him very well?” asked Kenyon, meaningly. Farbush seemed struck by this. “Well, no, perhaps not. But outside all else, yours is a splendid piece of news. It gives us so much more time; and time was the one thing which we sadly lacked.” “What did you and he talk about?” asked Hong Yo. “About many things, but nothing of much importance. I was satisfied to hold him safe.” “Did he ask questions?” “At the beginning he did little else. But I told him nothing.” A hollow chuckle came from the Chinaman. “I can well believe that,” he said, grimly. Kenyon was silent for a space, and the two watched him with interest; there could be no question but that, whatever their enterprise, it was expected of Kenyon to make the move that would bring things to a crisis. So far he had been kept dodging their questions; Forrester had told him that they had tidings of importance for him, and he was anxious to hear what it was. So he asked, carelessly: “What have you been doing in the meantime?” looking from one to the other. “Anything that might interest me?” “The girl, as you see, suspects something,” said Hong Yo. “There is no telling how deeply she was in the old man’s confidence. He loved her as he loved no one else; and trusted her in many things, as we now find.” “That,” put in Farbush, “has always been an uncertain point to me. If he trusted her so, how much did he tell her?” Kenyon found the eyes of both fixed steadily upon him; and the expectancy in their gaze gave him his cue. “I’m supposed to have inside information right here,” he thought. “But then the sphinx-like attitude, I think, is the safest: and it seems to tickle Hong Yo. So I had better maintain it.” So he smiled enigmatically and shook his head. “She knows less than you think,” said he. There was a deep frown upon Farbush’s face, and he rapped out sharply: “Perhaps of the things you mean--yes. But what of the others?” Kenyon gestured indifferently; he drew a case from his pocket and lighted a cigarette. “Do I understand that you are blaming me for this state of affairs?” he asked, evenly. “He is right,” said Hong Yo, quickly interrupting Farbush, as he was about to reply to this. “Mr. Kenyon has had nothing to do with the side of the matter to which you refer. That is, and has been, entirely in our own hands from the beginning.” Kenyon was delighted to hear this; but he concealed any facial manifestation of it by throwing up a dense cloud of smoke between them. But Farbush seemed impatient. “I am not trying to fix responsibility, but merely making a statement of facts,” declared he. “We are all together in this, and each, I hope, is eager for success. So it is well, if anything slips, to make it known.”