of official protection, and was become technically a burglar.

He wondered if Chief Inspector Kerry would have approved; but he
had outlined this plan of investigation for himself, and knew
well that, if it were crowned by success, the end would be
regarded as having justified the means. On the other hand, in
the event of detention he must personally bear the consequences
of such irregular behaviour. He knew well, however, that his
celebrated superior had achieved promotion by methods at least as
irregular; and he knew that if he could but obtain evidence to
account for the death of the man Cohen, and of the Chinaman Pi
Lung, who had preceded him by the same mysterious path, the way
of his obtaining it would not be too closely questioned.

He was an ambitious man, and consequently one who took big
chances. Nothing disturbed the silence; he sat upon the divan
and again pressed the button of his torch, shining it all about
the low-beamed apartment and peering curiously into the weird
shadows of the place. He calculated he was now in the position
which Cohen had occupied during the last moments of his life, and
a sense of the uncanny touched him coldly.

As he thought of the unnatural screams spoken of by Poland, some
strange instinct prompted him to curl up his feet upon the divan
again, as though a secret menace crawled upon the floor amid its
many rugs and carpets.

He must now endeavour to reconstruct the plan upon which the
American cracksman had operated. Poland had a persistent belief
that Cohen had known where the fabled hoard of Huang Chow was