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 *self," the Englishman said, swinging round on the Chinese fiercely. "What's behind it all, Mr. Wu? What's the game you are playing at? Why have you devoted your sinister attentions to me and mine? What have we done to start you on this career of kidnapping—of ship-scuttling—of incendiarism, among the coolies out there—and all the rest of it?"

Wu looked at his watch, put it back in his pocket, picked up his hat, and rose deliberately. "Mr. Gregory," he said coldly, "my time is of a certain value. Time is money, you Westerners say. Well, I never waste time—although I am never in a hurry. You will excuse me if I wish you a very good afternoon."

"No so fast, Mr. Wu," the shipper said ferociously, thrusting himself between Wu and the door. "My time's precious too, but I'm going to devote all that's requisite to getting an answer to my question. I've got the conviction lodged in this obstinate British head of mine that you know quite well what I want to know—and what I am going to know. And that's what I've got you here for—to tell me what I want to know. And, by the Lord, you will before you leave this room. I know that you can lay hands on my son—dead or alive. I know that you can—by God! I know that you can"

"Can you lay hands on him?"

"I? No! No!" the English father almost sobbed it, recoiling.

"Well, when you can"

"But I can lay hands on you if you don't satisfy me"

"I do not think that Mr. Gregory will commit that—indiscretion," Wu said significantly.

There was a bitter pause. When Gregory broke it