he could not bring himself to question a servant; also, Moto had very discreetly forborne to remember anything whatever of the revelations of that unfortunate morning, or even to comment when the delivery man brought up a new cot to take the place of the one which had catapulted into the Manoa Valley. However, he took the new cot up to the roof and put it in the place of the missing one, and also carried up, with admirable intuition, a new steamer chair which Dick had bought for himself. The roof-garden had been formally opened, there was no reason why it should not continue to be occupied if such were the pleasure of the master of the house. But for the present, at least, the master abstained from going back to the scene of his discomfiture. But meanwhile, in spite of the cool trade winds, Dick's work was not progressing favorably at all.
It was on the afternoon of the fourth day, when Dick was sitting before his typewriter absently lighting cigarettes and leaving them to burn out on the edge of the ash-tray, and watching idly the bit of curved roadway which was visible from his lanai; that he saw a certain little grey roadster come around the bend and slide out of sight behind the foliage of his garden. He sprang to his feet and dashed out of his front door and through the break in the tall hedge, almost colliding with a person who had been upon the point of passing through
