The millionaire rose. “All right—I’m Madden. What do you want?”
The stranger shook hands. “Glad to meet you, Mr. Madden. My name is Victor Jordan, and I’m one of the owners of those pearls you bought in San Francisco.”
A delighted smile spread over Madden’s face. “Oh—I’m glad to see you,” he said. “Mr. Eden told me you were coming—”
“How could he?” demanded Victor. “He didn’t know it himself.”
“Well, he didn’t mention you. But he informed me the pearls would be here at eight o’clock—”
Victor stared. “Be here at eight o’clock?” he repeated. “Say, just what has Bob Eden been up to down here, anyhow? The pearls left San Francisco a week ago, when Eden did.”
“What!” Purple again in Madden’s face. “He had them all the time! Why, the young scoundrel! I’ll break him in two for this. I’ll wring his neck—” He stopped. “But he’s gone. I just saw him driving away.”
“Really?” returned Victor. “Well, that may not be so serious as it looks. When I say the pearls left San Francisco with Eden, I don’t mean he was carrying them. Charlie had them.”
“Charlie who?”
“Why, Charlie Chan, of the Honolulu Police. The man who brought them from Hawaii.”
Madden was thoughtful. “Chan—a Chinaman?”
“Of course. He’s here, too, isn’t he? I understood he was.”
A wicked light came into Madden’s eyes. “Yes, he’s here. You think he still has the pearls?”
