“I’m afraid so, poor brutes! Still, as I told the P. M. last night, it all helps to keep the pot simmering. And sooner or later dear old man Chink will have to be put to it. The trouble is, you see, that Brother Jap will be at the poor old gentleman even if we consent to keep our fingers off him.” Mr. Gage saw that. “Any particular news this morning?” The question was lightly asked but before it was answered the face of Bennet Gage became perceptibly older. A look of strain came into a curiously somber face, as he said, “Did you know that Garland is dead?” “Dead! William Garland!” It was clear that, for a moment, even the Colossus was taken aback. “Why, I was in his company last evening at dinner at Rockingham House. We had a most interesting, a most informative chat about labor conditions all over the world. He was leaving here on Friday for Australia.” “Then he may have arrived already,” said Mr. Gage succinctly. “At all events, about half past eleven last night, as he entered the Cosmopolitan vestibule, he fell down dead.” Saul Hartz was visibly startled. He pursed his lips for a whistle that did not come. “About half past eleven, you say, in the Cosmopolitan vestibule? Why, an hour before I was talking with him in Park Lane, when he was as hale and cheery as you please.” “Yes, it’s all very mysterious,” said Mr. Gage, solemnly. It was clear that Saul Hartz was greatly impressed by this piece of news. There was no longer a trace of lightness in his manner when he said abruptly, after a slight pause: “There’ll be an inquest, of course?” “Oh, yes. The police have already taken charge of the body. But they are extraordinarily reticent.” “They suspect foul play?” “There seems absolutely nothing to be got out of Scotland Yard. Verity’s with them now.” The Colossus frowned. He produced from his waistcoat pocket a toothpick and began to chew it viciously. “We probably know quite as much as they do, or very likely more. But Verity can be trusted, I hope, not to give them cold feet.” “From what he says--he went down to Whitehall before breakfast--they’ve got cold feet already.” “Oh, they have!” Saul Hartz grew reflective. “Then, in this case, they seem rather more up to time than usual. The fact is, Gage, it’s no use disguising that this affair wears a particularly ugly look.” “That, undoubtedly, is Scotland Yard’s opinion.” “What do they surmise to be the cause of death?” “Verity can’t get a word out of them.” Saul Hartz threw up his head sharply. “Very well, see that they don’t get a word out of us. That’s a game for two and we’re in a position to play it as well as most people.” “Judging by the temperature in Whitehall at eight o’clock this morning, Verity is inclined to think they can tell us more than we can tell them. At any rate, we are warned to go slow.” “_Warned_ to go slow! What do you mean, Gage?” “We are to be specially careful how we treat the news so that it may not conflict with the public interest.”