“Come,” he said laconically and there was something in Carver’s face which told Yeh Ling all that he wanted to know. But there was a fight to be made yet and he was not without hope that this matter of the Trasmere murder and the tragedy that had followed, would be settled in a manner more consonant with his keen sense of obligation. The inspector did not come to the point at once. He accepted a cigar that the Chinaman offered to him, spoke jocularly of Yeh Ling’s letter writing, asked a question or two about Ursula Ardfern, and at last hinted at the object of his visit. “Yeh Ling,” he said, “I think the Trasmere case is coming to a solution.” Yeh Ling’s eyelids did not so much as flicker. “In fact,” said the inspector, carefully examining the ash of his cigar, “I have found the murderer.” Yeh Ling said nothing. “I need very little confirmatory evidence to put the man who killed Jesse Trasmere on the trap,” Carver went on. “And you have come to me to furnish that evidence,” said Yeh Ling with a touch of irony. Carver shook his head and smiled. “I don’t know--I didn’t think you would,” he said, and then almost sharply: “Where are the documents you took from the Trasmere house the night you went there with Miss Ardfern?” The Chinaman got up without hesitation, unlocked a small safe in the corner of the room and brought out a thick packet of papers. “They are all there?” asked Carver, shooting a suspicious glance at the other. “All except two,” was the cool reply, “one of which has reference to my interest in the Golden Roof and that is with my lawyer--” “And the other?” asked the detective. “That deals with matters of a sacred nature,” said Yeh Ling in that precise English that sounded almost affected. Carver bit his lip. “You know that this is the document I particularly want?” he asked. “I guessed that,” was the reply. “Nevertheless, Mr. Carver, I cannot give it to you, and if you know so much,” for a second a ghost of a smile lit his brown eyes, “then you will know why it is not forthcoming.” “Does Miss Ardfern know?” Yeh Ling shook his head. “She is the one person who must not know,” he said emphatically. “If it were not for her--” he shrugged his shoulders, “you might see it.” Carver knew that he was opposed by a will greater than his own and that neither threats nor promises would move this impassive man from the attitude he had taken up. “What does it matter whether you see this paper or not?” asked Yeh Ling. “You say you know the murderer, that you have sufficient evidence to put him on the trap--but have you?” His look was a challenge.