As we dropped into chairs, Bartley motioned to his prisoner to be seated. With a slight shrug of his shoulders the Chinaman sank into his seat. Never taking his eyes off him, Bartley walked over to the chair near the table, directly opposite. As he seated himself, the revolver in his lap, the two men eyed each other in a long questioning gaze. There seemed more curiosity in the almond-shaped eyes than fear. With a little gesture, the Chinaman murmured: “If it had not been for a chair—” There came no reply from Bartley. Ranville was studying the oriental with a deliberateness which took in every feature, as though he was trying to remember if he had ever seen him in London. And then all at once the man spoke again. His voice was cool and low as if he were making a social call. “You know I told you before that I know nothing about the murder of Mr. Warren.” Bartley shot out but one word, “Maybe.” Again the eyes of the two men met and for a moment their glances held. Then the Chinaman dropped his eyes to his hands. The long fingers folded and unfolded as though he were playing some game. After a silence he spoke again: “May I ask what you plan to do with me?” “That depends,” was Bartley's slow response. I saw a sudden gleam of interest come into the yellow face, and then it became as impassive as before. One thing was certain: there was not a trace of fear in his manner though it seemed to me he was rather curious as to who Bartley might be. Again he looked at him, and then ventured: “What is it you wish me to tell you?” Bartley's voice was very impersonal as he replied: “I am not sure I wish you to tell me anything; but if you do wish to speak, you might explain how that box of opium got into Warren's possession.” It was not a smile that passed over the Chinaman's face, though his features did move a little. For a moment he let his head sink back against his chair and his eyes partly closed as if he was thinking. Then suddenly he sat upright and said: “I am perfectly willing to tell you that. It is really very simple. Mr. Warren was given six boxes by a certain gentleman he met in China. They were rare and old; three were for himself; the other three he was asked to bring as a gift from this man to a friend of his in America.” He paused as if reflecting and as he did not speak for a moment, Bartley suggested: “And three of them contained opium.” The Chinaman made a slight bow. “Your wisdom is indeed great,” was the reply. “Three of them did. When they were given Mr. Warren, just as he was about to sail for America, he was told that the keys of the boxes were lost. But he was told they would be sent, and should reach him before he unpacked his goods. As they were all coming in duty free because of his scientific standing this man knew that the boxes would not be opened. So marking the three which contained opium, he simply used the scientist as the carrying agent.”