Ear in his splendid equipage. He followed along behind, down Third, up Market to Powell, and finally to the St. Francis. I went in the front door of the hotel and out the side, on to Post. And there was Cauliflower Ear and his fare, drifting by our store. As I went in the front door of the club, my dear old friends drew up across the street. I escaped by way of the kitchen, and slipped over here. I fancy they’re still in front of the club—they loved me like a brother.” He paused. “And that, dad, is the long but thrilling story of why I did not meet Mr. Chan.”
Eden smiled. “By jove, you’ve got more brains than I thought. You were perfectly right. But look here, Sally—I like this less than ever. That necklace of yours isn’t a well-known string. It’s been in Honolulu for years. Easy as the devil to dispose of it, once it’s stolen. If you’ll take my advice, you’ll certainly not send it off to the desert—”
“Why not?” broke in Victor. “The desert’s the very place to send it. Certainly this town doesn’t look any too good.”
“Alec,” said Sally Jordan, “we need the money. If Mr. Madden is down at Eldorado, and asks for the necklace there, then let’s send it to him immediately and get his receipt. After that—well, it’s his lookout. His worry. Certainly I want it off my hands as soon as may be.”
Eden sighed. “All right. It’s for you to decide. Bob will take it at eleven, as we planned. Provided—well, provided you make the arrangement you promised—provided he doesn’t go alone.” He looked toward Charlie Chan who was standing at the window watching, fascinated, the noisy life of Geary Street far below.
