"And they let him go!" Dorrington exclaimed. "What fools!"
"He may know something about it, of course," Colson said dubiously; "but with that sword missing, and knowing what we do of Kanamaro's anxiety to get it at any cost, and—and"—he glanced toward the other room where the idol stood—"and one thing and another, it seems to me we should look in another direction."
"We will look in all directions," Dorrington replied. "Kanamaro may have enlisted Dowden's help. Do you know where to find Kanamaro?"
"Yes. Deacon has had letters from him, which I have seen. He lived in lodgings near the British Museum."
"Very well. Now, do you happen to know whether a night porter is kept at this place?"
"No, there is none. The outer door is shut at twelve. Anybody coming home after that must ring up the housekeeper by the electric bell."
"The tenants do not have keys for the outer door?"
"No; none but keys for their own rooms."
"Good. Now, Mr. Colson, I want to think things over a little. Would you care to go at once and ascertain whether or not Kanamaro is still at the address you speak of?"
"Certainly, I will. Perhaps I should have told you that, though he knows me slightly, he has never spoken of his father's sword to me, and does not know that I know anything about it. He seems, indeed, to have spoken about it to nobody but Deacon himself. He was very proud and reticent in the matter; and now that Deacon is dead, he probably thinks nobody alive knows of the matter of the sword but himself. If he is at home what shall I do?"