"You will, I am sure, pardon my seeming over-anxiety for your safety, and the safety of Poritol's treasure, but I cannot resist using my influence to see that you are well-protected to-night by what you in America call 'a plain-clothes man.' I trust that he will frighten away the Yellow Peril and permit you to slumber undisturbed. If you do not wish him inside your apartment, he will sit in the hall outside your door. "With all regard for your continued good health, believe me, dear Mr. Orme, "Yours, etc., etc., "Pedro Alcatrante." In view of everything that had happened since the note was penned, Orme smiled a grim smile. Alcatrante must have been very anxious indeed; and yet, considering that the minister knew nothing of Orme's encounter with the Japanese and his meeting with the girl, the sending of the detective might naturally have been expected to pass as an impressive, but friendly, precaution. The detective was rapidly losing his self-assurance. "I had only been asleep for a moment," he said. "Yes?" Orme spoke indifferently. "Well, you may go now. There is no longer any need of you here." "But my instructions----" "Were given under a misapprehension. My return makes your presence unnecessary. Good-night--or good-morning, rather." He nodded toward the door. The detective hesitated. "Look a here!" he suddenly burst out. "I never saw you before." "Nor I you," replied Orme. "Then how do I know that you are Mr. Orme? You may be the very chap I was to keep out, far as I know." "Sure enough, I may be," said Orme dryly, adding--"But I am not. Now go." The detective narrowed his eyebrows. "Not without identification." "Ask the night-clerk," exclaimed Orme impatiently. "Can't you see that I don't wish to be bothered any longer?" He went over to the door and threw it open. "Come," he continued. "Well, here then"--as the detective did not move--"here's my card. That ought to do you." He took a card from his pocket-case and offered it to the detective, who, after scrutinizing it for a moment, let it fall to the floor. "Oh, it's all right, I guess," he said. "But what shall I say to the chief?" "Simply say that I didn't need you any longer." The detective picked up his hat and went. "Thank Heaven!" exclaimed Orme as he closed the door. "But I wonder why I didn't notice his hat. It was lying here in plain sight." He went to the telephone and spoke to the clerk. "Did you let that detective into my apartment?" he asked. "Why, yes, Mr. Orme. He was one of the regular force, and he said that you wanted him here. I called up the chief's office, and the order was corroborated. I meant to tell you when you came in, but you passed the desk just while I was down eating my supper. The elevator-boy let you in, didn't he?" "Yes. Never mind, it's all right. Good-night."