It was quite dark, in spite of the lamp. He went up the first flight, and found himself in a narrow hall, from which several doors opened. “I wonder which room he went into,” thought the reporter. “I can’t knock at all of them and ask. Few of the Chinese understand English when you want ’em to.” He decided to go to the top floor, and get an idea of the layout of the place, before making any inquiries. So he continued up the next flight of stairs. The floor above was like the second, except that the portal of one room was open. Going past it Mr. Newton peered inside. He saw two solemn-faced Chinese playing a card game, and smoking long-stemmed pipes. “I guess he’s not in there,” thought Mr. Newton. “I’ll try the next floor.” Up he went, listening now and then to see if he was being followed. He could hear no footsteps, and there was good reason for it, as the man with the gloves, who had glided into the hallway a few seconds after Mr. Newton had entered, had slipped over his heavy shoes a pair of large felt slippers that made no sound. “He’s walking right into the trap!” said the man with the gloves. “We’ll have him now.” Mr. Newton reached the top hall. He saw a number of doors. At the end of the corridor, in front of one portal, there burned a dim hanging-lamp. “I’ll see what’s in there,” the reporter mused. He reached the door. He was about to knock when he happened to glance up. He was startled to see confronting him, painted on a panel of the door, a large blue hand. CHAPTER XVI A VAIN QUEST “I guess this is the place,” thought the reporter. “It’s rather odd, though, that they dare adopt such a sign as that openly, when they must know we are on their track in connection with the safe-robbery. I wonder if I’d better go in.” The question was answered for him, as, at that instant, the door opened. Mr. Newton saw before him a room brightly lighted. Around a table were seated four men. In front of them was the envelope which had been obtained by Peter at the cigar store. Peter was nowhere to be seen. “Well?” inquired one of the men, a short, slim fellow. “I was looking for a friend, a young man,” said Mr. Newton, rather taken by surprise. “Yes, we know who it was. He brought this envelope. But it’s no good. You can’t fool us!” exclaimed a voice behind Mr. Newton, and the next instant the reporter was shoved into the room by the man with the gloves, who entered after him, and shut the door, which closed with a snap. At first the reporter was startled with the suddenness of it all, and he was not a little alarmed. He knew he was alone, and in the power of the gang he had sought to run down. He was also in the worst part of the city, where cries for help might go unheeded, since there were hourly fightings among the inhabitants, to which cries the police, if they heard them, paid no attention.