"A cat," said Poritol, drawing back. Arima explained in English: "It belongs to lady upstairs. Comes down fire-escape. Shoo! Shoo!" He clapped his hands and the animal bounded to the window-sill and disappeared up the iron steps. "And now," began the stranger, "shall we examine the documents?" "One moment," said Alcatrante. "I should first like a clear understanding with you--some words in private." He moved to a corner, and there the stranger joined him. They talked in an undertone for several minutes, Alcatrante gesturing volubly, the stranger nodding now and then, and interjecting a few brief words. What was going on was more than ever a mystery to Orme. The stranger's reference to "the next contract" strengthened the surmise that the documents in the envelope were connected with a South American trade concession. Alcatrante had plainly concluded that his interests and those of the Japanese were identical. He must have communicated with the strange Japanese the first thing in the morning. That would account for his failure to call at the Père Marquette at ten o'clock. Learning that the bill had been taken from Orme, and that the coveted documents were in the possession of the Japanese, he had no object in keeping his appointment. As for Poritol, he had become a figure of minor importance. But Orme did not let these questions long engage him, for he had made a discovery. Where his head bumped against the table, the board above him--solid, as he had supposed--rattled strangely. At the moment he could not investigate, but as soon as the cat had satisfied the suspicions of Poritol, and Alcatrante and the stranger had retired to their corner, he twisted his head back and examined the wood above him. The table had a drawer. From the room outside this drawer was concealed by the cloth cover, and Orme had not suspected its existence. Now, the table was cheaply made. The drawer was shallow and narrow, and it was held in position, under the table, by an open framework of wood. When it was pushed in, it was stopped at the right place by two cleats; there was no solid strip to prevent its being pushed in too far. Orme put his hand to the back of the drawer. There was a space between it and the table-top. Cautiously he pushed his hand through the opening. His fingers touched a flat object--a pad of paper, or--the thought made his heart beat--a large, thick envelope. Could Arima have used the drawer as a hiding-place? Slowly he got the edge of the object between his first and second fingers and drew it a little way toward the back of the drawer. A moment later he had it under his eyes. Yes, it was a long envelope of heavy linen, and there were bulky papers within. The gummed flap was toward him. He was interested to note that, important though the documents seemed to be, the envelope was not sealed with wax.