"Any detail is of use, sir," answered Ayscough, making another note. "Now, I'll tell this taxi-man to drive you back to the hospital. I shall call there tomorrow morning, and I shall want to see this young Japanese gentleman, too. I daresay you see that this is a case of murder--and there's more behind it!" "You suspect Chang Li?" suggested the house-surgeon as they went out to the cab. "Couldn't say that--yet," replied Ayscough, grimly. "For anything I know, Chang Li may have been murdered, too. But I've a pretty good notion what Chen Li was knifed for!" When the house-surgeon had gone away, Ayscough turned to Melky. "Come back to Molteno Lodge," he said. "They're searching it. Let's see if they've found anything of importance." The house which had been as lifeless and deserted when Melky and the detective visited it earlier in the evening was full enough of energy and animation when they went back. One policeman kept guard at the front gate; another at the door of the yard; within the house itself, behind closed doors and drawn shutters and curtains, every room was lighted and the lynx-eyed men were turning the place upside down. One feature of the search struck the newcomers immediately--the patch of ground whereon Melky had found the dead man had been carefully roped off. Ayscough made a significant motion of his hand towards it. "Good!" he said, "that shows they've found footprints. That may be useful. Let's hear what else they've found." The man in charge of these operations was standing within the dining-room when Ayscough and Melky walked in, and he at once beckoned them into the room and closed the door. "We've made two or three discoveries," he said, glancing at Ayscough. "To start with, there were footprints of a rather unusual sort round these bushes where the man was lying--so I've had it carefully fenced in around there--we'll have a better look at 'em, in daylight. Very small prints, you understand--more like a woman's than a man's." Ayscough's sharp eyes turned to the hearth--there were two or three pairs of slippers lying near the fender and he pointed to them. "These Chinamen have very small feet, I believe," he said. "The footprints are probably theirs. Well--what else?" "This," answered the man in charge, producing a small parcel from the side-pocket of his coat, and proceeding to divest it of a temporary wrapping. "Perhaps Mr. Rubinstein will recognize it. We found it thrown away in a fire-grate in one of the bedrooms upstairs--you see, it's half burnt." He produced a small, stoutly-made cardboard box, some three inches square, the outer surface of which was covered with a thick, glossy-surfaced dark-green paper, on which certain words were deeply impressed in gilt letters. The box was considerably charred and only fragments of the lettering on the lid remained intact--but it was not difficult to make out what the full wording had been. . . . . _enius_, . . ._nd jeweller_, . . _ed Street_.