There is a stairs in this rear room leading up to the bungalow. If you will come with me -“

They entered the third and last room of the office suite, and Bill Rankin followed the huge figure of the Englishman aloft. The stairs ended in a dark passageway on the floor above. Throwing open the nearest door, Sir Frederic flooded the place with light, and Bill Rankin stepped into the great living-room of the bungalow. Paradise was alone in the room; he received the reporter with cold disdain. Barry Kirk, it appeared, was dressing for dinner, and the butler went reluctantly to inform him of the newspaper man’s unseemly presence.

Kirk appeared at once, in his shirt-sleeves and with the ends of a white tie dangling about his neck. He was a handsome, lean young man in the late twenties, whose manner spoke of sophistication, and spoke true. For he had traveled to the far corners of the earth seeking to discover what the Kirk fortune would purchase there, and life held no surprises for him any more.

“Ah yes - Mr. Rankin of the Globe,” he said pleasantly. “What can I do for you?”

Paradise hastened forward to officiate with the tie, and over the servant’s shoulder Bill Rankin explained his mission. Kirk nodded.

“A bully idea,” he remarked. “I have a lot of friends in Honolulu, and I’ve heard about Charlie Chan. I’d like to meet him myself.”

“Very happy to have you join us,” said the reporter.

“Can’t be done. You must join me.”

“But - the suggestion of the lunch was mine -” began Rankin uncomfortably.

Kirk waved a hand in the airy manner of the rich in such a situation. “My dear fellow - I’ve already arranged a luncheon for tomorrow. Some chap in the district attorney’s office wrote me a letter. He’s interested in criminology and wants to meet Sir Frederic. As I explained to Sir Frederic, I couldn’t very well ignore it. We never know when we’ll need a friend in the district attorney’s office, these days.”

“One of the deputies?” inquired Rankin.

“Yes. A fellow named Morrow - J. V. Morrow. Perhaps you know him?”

Rankin nodded. “I do,” he said.

“Well, that’s the scenario,” went on Kirk. “We’re to meet this lad at the St. Francis tomorrow at one. The topic of the day will be murder, and I’m sure your friend from Honolulu will fit in admirably. You must pick up Mr. Chan and join us.”

“Thank you very much,” said Rankin. “You’re extremely kind.