"I suppose you want to tell me that the sailing has been delayed. I know
all about that--she sails in the morning."

"Sails in the morning!" he exclaimed, pretending surprise, but being
puzzled about something. "Does she?"

There was guile in that last question, and when he asked it I knew it was
he or some one acting for him who had attempted to mislead me about the
time of the vessel's departure. I saw a chance to trap him, and asked:

"Was that what you wanted to tell me?"

He parried it, and while he fumbled in his pockets for something, a trick
to gain time, he was thinking hard and fast.

I had him against the ropes, so to speak, and he knew it, for what he did
want to find out was whether I knew the telephone message to be
fraudulent. If I did, he wanted to take credit for setting me right; and
if I didn't, he wanted me to miss the _Kut Sang_. So, knowing his game, I
came to the conclusion that I must not press him too hard and so make him
suspicious that I knew his true character--his character, that is, as a
decidedly suspicious person.

"I was told that she sails in the morning, but it was some mistake," I
told him, as if I had not found anything peculiar in the error and was
not the least disturbed about it.

"Oh, no! Nothing in that!" he cried, unable to conceal his delight over
my admission of how much I knew. "For a minute I thought there might be