They walked a little farther, and then Mr. Colson, determined to penetrate Kanamaro's mask of indifference, observed—
"It's a very sad thing this about Mr. Deacon."
"What is that?" asked Kanamaro, stolidly.
"Why, it is in all the newspapers!"
"The newspapers I do not read at all."
"Mr. Deacon has been killed—murdered in his rooms! He was found lying dead at the feet of Hachiman the god."
"Indeed!" Kanamaro answered politely, but with something rather like stolid indifference. "That is very sad. I am sorry. I did not know he had a Hachiman."
"And they say," Mr. Colson pursued, "that something has been taken!"
"Ah, yes," Kanamaro answered, just as coolly; "there were many things of much value in the rooms." And after a little while he added, "I see it is a little late. You will excuse me, for I must go to lunch at my lodgings. Good-day."
He bowed, shook hands, and hailed a cab. Mr. Colson heard him direct the cabman to his lodgings, and then, in another cab, Mr. Colson made for Dorrington's office.
Kanamaro's stolidity, the lack of anything like
