“But where shall I tell Dryer that I am stopping?”
“At a hotel — any hotel. If he questions you too closely, tell him that you have checked out. Let him recommend a better hotel. He will think that you have gone there.”
DAVE nodded slowly. He felt that he could manage the Dryer visit. Another matter was coming to his mind.
“About those symbols, Colin!” he remarked. “The ones on the tapestries. Of course, they were probably different from the tapestry we want. Ours was in the box with the silver dragon on its cover. But I observed one symbol on the first tapestry. It looked like a golden pagoda, the same design that was on the token sent to me by Ku Luan”
“Leave that until later, Dave,” interposed Colin. “It’s time to be off. Dryer sometimes leaves his office early in the afternoon. You must hurry along; take a taxi up at the corner.”
Dave Kelroy departed. Colin Eldreth closed the door. His next action was proof that he had held good reason for his impatience to see Dave leave.
Stepping across the living room, Colin burrowed beneath the table and brought out a blocky-object that looked like a Mah Jong cabinet.
Colin raised the sliding front. A flood of papers poured from the small cabinet. Colin began to separate them; all the papers were long, square slips, each bearing a single symbol. Many designs were duplicated, but each appeared in various colors. Colin began to sort them.
These were the Chinese prayer papers which Colin had mentioned prior to the visit to the Chinese bazaar. There was reason why the quaintly patterned sheets had become of present interest. For Colin had remembered the first two tapestries exhibited at the auction.
The symbols on the prayer papers were identical with ones that had appeared upon the silken drapes.
Colin Eldreth had gained a vital link. Though he had not seen the final tapestry unfolded, he knew that the symbols which must appear upon it could be translated by these paper clues that he had held for years!
CHAPTER XII. AT THE OFFICE
WHILE David Kelroy was riding toward the downtown district, three men were holding conference in Weldon Dryer’s office. One was the withery lawyer himself. The second was Mark Eldreth. The third, a silent listener to the preliminary conversation, was Durling, the private detective.
“I am truly anxious, Mr. Dryer,” Mark was saying, soberly. “I assure you, the young man was quite sincere when he talked to me two nights ago. He intimated that he had encountered trouble in San Francisco; but he gave me no inkling of its nature.”
“He mentioned Ku Luan, you say?” inquired Dryer.
“Yes,” nodded Mark, “but he did not indicate that there had been any lawless activity at Ku Luan’s. He told me merely that Ku Luan had died under strange circumstances.”
“The young man’s name was Kelroy?”
“Yes. David Kelroy. From Shanghai. Kelroy said that he would come to see you,” he stated. “He should have been here yesterday. When I read the morning newspapers, I was aghast. I called this office, but learned that you were out of town.”
“I had business in Sacramento,” said Dryer. “Perhaps Kelroy called here by telephone; but if he did, he certainly did not give his name. All such calls are recorded by my secretary.”
“This morning,” went on Mark, “I read of another terrible affray at the Chinese bazaar. Once again, the name of Ku Luan was involved. I became more anxious than ever concerning young Kelroy. Do you think the poor fellow could have met with foul play?”
“That is difficult to guess,” returned Dryer, “unless the police have already arrested Zack Ruggey. Do you think that your information would aid them, Durling?”
Mark blinked in surprise as he heard the question. He looked at Durling curiously.
“My information?” queried Durling. He shrugged his thick shoulders. “I don’t know that I have any copyright on that dope, Mr. Dryer. Inspector Romson knows that Hype Mellick used to be a friend of Zack Ruggey’s.”
“Then why hasn’t the inspector quizzed Mellick?”
“Because Hype has established too good an alibi. He has kept away from Chinatown. Nobody has seen him with Zack.”
“But you told me that Zack had been at the Club Monterey”
“Not since this trouble broke, Mr. Dryer.”
Durling spoke in positive fashion; but Dryer looked worried. Mark Eldreth, staring in puzzled fashion from investigator to lawyer, finally ended the lull with a question:
“Who is Hype Mellick?”
“He is a gambler,” returned Dryer, “who frequents the Club Monterey.”
“The Club Monterey! Why that is the place where my cousin Colin spends so much time!”
“Precisely. It was while Durling was watching Colin that he saw Hype Mellick; and later heard mention of Zack Ruggey’s name. Mellick received money; and he planned to give some of it to Ruggey.”
“Mellick received money? From whom?”
“From your cousin Colin.”
MARK stared as he heard Dryer’s sober statement. Slowly, Mark’s mouth formed a gaping oval in the center of his roundish face. He was at a loss for words. Dryer supplied them.
“I know what you are thinking, Mark,” stated the attorney, slowly. “This money — it was cash that I gave Colin the other night — was paid prior to those frays in Chinatown. That is why I asked Durling if he thought the information would be useful to the police.”
“But think of the scandal, Mr. Dryer!” protested Mark. “Colin cannot be dragged into public print! It would be terrible.”
“Nevertheless we owe a duty to the law—”
“Wait a minute.” It was Durling who gave the brusque interruption. “I’m not the only person who knows that Hype Mellick has talked with Colin Eldreth. The two of them were together at the Club Monterey, only yesterday afternoon. Hype was there last night, too; but Colin wasn’t.
“Stew Randler, the proprietor knows about them. If Inspector Romson wants information, let him get it from Stew Randler. Once Stew has spilled the beans, I can talk; but not before.
“I got into the Club Monterey because I promised Pete, the bouncer, that I wouldn’t make any trouble. What’s more, I was doing confidential work, for you, Mr. Dryer. I’m a private investigator; and you’re a lawyer. That gives us some privileges, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose so,” nodded Dryer. “But I have never been in sympathy with attorneys who have found ways to block paths of justice.”
“Good enough,” agreed Durling, “but there’s another slant to this proposition. I’ve just said that Hype Mellick is a fox when it comes to framing alibis. Suppose I did tell Romson about the conversation I heard between Hype and Colin. What would Hype say when the inspector quizzed him?
“I’ll tell you what he’d say. His story would be that Colin owed him dough from a poker game. He’d say that Zack Ruggey and some other mugs were in on the same deal; that he was collecting for his friends. Romson would ask where Zack was; and Hype wouldn’t know. He’d show Romson a wad of dough and say that he was still waiting to hear from Zack, to give the guy what was due him.
“A phony story? Sure. But how could Romson crack it? He couldn’t. Then where would I be? What would I be? I’ll tell you. I’d be the champion palooka in San Francisco. In wrong, with everybody, including the cops. Nope, Mr. Dryer. I’m not going to visit headquarters until I’m called there.”
THE elderly lawyer pondered; then nodded slowly. Mark settled back in his chair, solemnly sighing in relief. Dryer spoke tersely.
“There is merit in your argument,” the lawyer told Durling. “I would agree with you, except for one reason. I am concerned about this young man who came to see Mark. We know that David Kelroy is actually missing. On his account, we must—”