in his way—good night. Some poor devil stood there—but not for long. Who? We’ll find out. We must.”
“We?”
“Yes—you’re in on this thing, too. Have to be, after this, whether you like it or not.”
“I think I’m going to like it,” Paula Wendell said.
They returned their tired horses to the stable at Seven Palms, and after a sketchy dinner at the local hotel, caught the Eldorado train. When they alighted, Charlie and Will Holley were waiting.
“Hello,” said the editor. “Why, hello, Paula—where you been? Eden, here’s Ah Kim. Madden sent him in for you.”
“Hello, gentlemen,” cried Eden gaily. “Before Ah Kim and I head for the ranch, we’re all going over to the office of that grand old sheet, the Eldorado Times. I have something to impart.”
When they reached the newspaper office—which Ah Kim entered with obvious reluctance—Eden closed the door and faced them. “Well, folks,” he announced, “the clouds are breaking. I’ve finally got hold of something definite. But before I go any further—Miss Wendell, may I present Ah Kim? So we sometimes call him, after our quaint fashion. In reality, you are now enjoying the priceless opportunity of meeting Detective-Sergeant Charlie Chan, of the Honolulu police.”
Chan bowed. “I’m so glad to know you, Sergeant,” said the girl, and took up her favorite perch on Holley’s typewriter table.
“Don’t look at me like that, Charlie,” laughed Eden. “You’re breaking my heart. We can rely on Miss Wendell,
