At last he ended it by counting out another hundred and placing the whole in the Chinaman's hand. The old fellow chuckled. "Now then, John, out with the whole business," said Old King Brady, "and let your name come along with the rest." And the old detective found no reason to regret his bargain. "Me talkee Chinee to lady now," said the old fellow. "Right. Go ahead," assented Old King Brady. The conversation was quite extended. "Is it important, Alice?" Old King Brady ventured to ask while it was in progress, for it seemed as if they would never come to an end. "Most important," replied Alice. "You better let me hear all he has to say." At last she turned and began to translate. "It seems," she said, "that this old fellow, whose name is Fen Wix, as near as I can make out, although I never heard the last name before, is supposed to be deaf. He is so at times, but there are times when his hearing is perfect. He says that they have taken the boy away up into the Bronx to a cottage on Lorimer's lane, near the ruins of an old fertilizer factory; that is all the description I can get of the place." "And it happens that I know it," replied Old King Brady. "There was once a fertilizer factory at the foot of Lorimer's lane. It burned some years ago." "Pow Chow and his white wife are there in that cottage. They have a scheme to recover a lot of stolen money sunk in the water near by. Pow knows where. He was looking for a Chinaman who could swim and dive. He drank too much last night and talked about his plans to two men, both Chinese. This old fellow overheard, although they supposed he could not hear. He says that these two men are out for this treasure. The boy, it appears, is an extraordinary swimmer, and the plan is to use him. Fen Wix thinks that Pow Chow will have no recollection of the talk he made. He considers these two men his enemies, and yet he will not give away their names. He says that because he hates them and because he is too old to go after the treasure himself, he is giving the secret away to you, as he needs money. That is the gist of his story." "Sounds rather fishy, don't you think so, governor?" "Oh, I don't know," was the reply. "It seems to explain Mrs. Butler's anxiety and some other things. It may be that these mysterious papers give an account of the hiding of the treasure. I think there may be something in the thing." "Dere sure is! Dere sure is, Boss Blady!" cried Fen Wix, who had been listening to all this. "You goee head. You win out. Me no can do nluffin, see? You gimmee two hlundled dlorrar, dat better as nluffin--see? Goee head. You win--see?" And such was the Bradys' Chinese clew. Chinamen rarely go out of their way to inform on each other, but sometimes they do. A desire for revenge is the usual motive. Fen Wix told Alice that he was seventy-six years old, and that one of the men to whom Pow Chow blabbed the secret in his cups ought to support him, but instead had treated him shabbily.