each other while Bob Eden watched them, amazed. For the first time he realized that under the mask of their daily relations these two were anything but friends.
Suddenly Madden turned the light on Charlie Chan. “Look here, Ah Kim—this was Louie Wong—the boy you replaced here—savvy? You’ve got to stay on the ranch now—after I’ve gone, too—how about it?”
“I think I stay, boss.”
“Good. You’re the only bit of luck I’ve had since I came to this accursed place. Bring Louie into the living-room—on the couch. I’ll call Eldorado.”
He stalked off through the patio to the house, and after a moment’s hesitation Chan and the secretary picked up the frail body of Louie Wong. Slowly Bob Eden followed that odd procession. In the living-room, Madden was talking briskly on the telephone. Presently he hung up the receiver.
“Nothing to do but wait,” he said. “There’s a sort of constable in town—he’ll be along pretty soon with the coroner. Oh, it’s fine business. They’ll overrun the place—and I came here for a rest.”
“I suppose you want to know what happened,” Eden began. “I met Louie Wong in town, at the Oasis Cafe. Mr. Holley pointed him out to me, and—”
Madden waved a great hand. “Oh, save all that for some half-witted cop. Fine business, this is.”
He took to pacing the floor like a lion with the toothache. Eden dropped into a chair before the fire. Chan had gone out, and Thorn was sitting silently near by. Madden continued to pace. Bob Eden stared at the blazing logs. What sort of affair had he got into, anyhow? What
