and I yearn to save you from an error you will have bitter cause to regret.”
“I’ll take the chance. Now, what’s going on here?” The sheriff turned to Madden. “We came about that Louie Wong killing. Bliss saw this Chinaman on a train last night with the fellow named Eden, all dolled up in regular clothes and as chummy as a brother.”
“You’re on the right trail now, Sheriff,” Madden assured him. “There’s no doubt he killed Louie. And just at present he has somewhere about him a string of pearls belonging to me. Please take them away from him.”
“Sure, Mr. Madden,” replied the sheriff. He advanced to make a search, but Chan forestalled him. He handed him the necklace.
“I give it to your keeping,” he said. “You are officer of law and responsible. Attend your step.”
Cox regarded the pearls. “Some string, ain’t it? Kinda pretty, Mr. Madden. You say it belongs to you?”
“It certainly does—”
“Sheriff,” pleaded Charlie, with a glance at the clock, “if I may make humble suggestion, go slow. You will kick yourself angrily over vast expanse of desert should you make blunder now.”
“But if Mr. Madden says these pearls are his—”
“They are,” said Madden. “I bought them from a jeweler named Eden in San Francisco ten days ago. They belonged to the mother of Mr. Jordan here.”
“That’s quite correct,” admitted Victor.
“It’s enough for me,” remarked the sheriff.
“I tell you I am of the Honolulu Police—” protested Chan.
“Maybe so, but do you think I’d take your word against
