at Lloyds—so did the Chinaman, Chuh Fen. Now—what could those three have told about the Elizabeth Robinson?"
No one made any remark on that, until Scarterfield remarked softly:
"I wish I had chanced to be at Lloyds when Chuh Fen called there! But—that's three years ago, and Chuh Fen may be—where?"
Something impelled Miss Raven and myself to glance at Dr. Lorrimore. He nodded—he knew what we were thinking of. And he turned to Scarterfield.
"I happen," he said, "to have a Chinaman in my employ at present—one Wing, a very clever man. He has been with me for some years—I brought him from India, when I came home recently. An astute chap, like———"
He paused suddenly; the detective had turned a suddenly interested glance on him.
"You live hereabouts, sir?" he asked. "I—I don't think I've caught your name?"
"Dr. Lorrimore—our neighbour," said Mr. Raven hurriedly. "Close by."
I think Lorrimore saw what had suddenly come into Scarterfield's mind. He laughed, a little cynically.
"Don't get the idea, or suspicion, formed or half-fledged, that my man Wing had anything to do with the murder of Salter Quick!" he said. "I can vouch for him and his movements—I know where he was on the night of the murder. What I was thinking of was this—Wing is a man of infinite resource and of superior brains. He might be of use to you in trac-
