"Vill this do?" demanded the constable, taking the candle from the lantern, the better to display the narrow limits of the hole. Promptly Ah Cum wired the information to O'Higgins in Hong-Kong. "Don't touch me. "The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. Saw the villain through the keyhole. One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire. Earles himself stood upon the threshold of his sanctum, the prototype of the smart natty Jew, with black hair, waxed moustache, and a wired flower in his button-hole.
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