Shall we go?”

“Oh - let’s wait,” pleaded Kirk. “They’re sailing in a minute. I always get a thrill out of it. Look - up there on the top deck.” He nodded toward a pretty girl in gray, with a cluster of orchids pinned to her shoulder. “A bride, if you ask me. And I suppose that vacant-faced idiot at her side is the lucky man.”

Miss Morrow looked, without interest.

“A great place for a honeymoon, Hawaii,” went on Kirk. “I’ve often thought - I hope I’m not boring you?”

“Not much,” she said.

“I know. Brides leave you cold. I suppose divorce is more in your line. You and Blackstone. Well, you shan’t blast my romantic young nature.” He took out a handkerchief and waved it toward the girl on the top deck. “So long, my dear,” he called. “All the luck in the world.”

“I don’t see Mr. Chan,” said the young woman from the district attorney’s office.

Mr. Chan was sitting thoughtfully on the edge of the berth in his stateroom, far below. The great happiness of his long anticipated departure for home had received a rude jolt. Running away - was that it? Afraid of a difficult case? Did Miss Morrow really think that? If she did, then he had lost face indeed.

His gloomy reactions were interrupted by a voice in the next stateroom - a voice he had heard before. His heart stood still as he listened.

“I fancy that’s all, Li,” said the familiar voice. “You have your passport, your money. You are simply to wait for me in Honolulu. Better lie low there.”

“I will do so,” replied a high-pitched, singsong voice.

“And if any one asks any questions, you know nothing. Understand?”

“Yes-s-s. I am silent. I understand.”

“Very good. You’re a wonderful servant, Li Gung. I don’t like to flatter you, you grinning beggar, but I couldn’t do without you. Good-by - and a pleasant journey.”

Chan was on his feet now, peering out into the dim passageway along which opened the rooms on the lowest deck. In that faint light he saw a familiar figure emerge from the room next door, and disappear in the distance.

The detective stood for a moment, undecided. Of all the guests at Barry Kirk’s party, one had interested him beyond all others - almost to the exclusion of the others. The tall, grim, silent man who had made his camps throughout the wastelands of the world, who had left a trail of the dead but who had always moved on, relentlessly, toward his goal.