“You might as well believe me first as last,” exclaimed Orme. “The papers you want are not here.”
Arima was clearly puzzled. “You had them,” he began.
“Possibly. But I haven’t them now. How would you feel if I should tell you that the young lady and I have made this journey simply to throw you off the scent, and that the papers were being delivered by another person?”
“I not believe,” declared Arima shortly.
Suddenly Maku began to jabber at Arima, who, after an instant of consideration, gave a quick order to the fourth Japanese, who stood by. This man went to the tonneau and got the prospectuses which Orme had placed under the seat cushion.
Arima snatched the papers with his free hand, then, resigning Orme entirely to Maku’s care, and clucking strangely, opened them.
A glance sufficed. With a cry of disappointment, he tore the papers in two and threw them to the ground.
He thrust his face close to Orme’s. “Where the papers?” he said.
Orme did not reply.
The Japanese who had brought the prospectuses from the tonneau now stepped to Maku’s assistance, for Orme had made a motion of the body which showed that he was rapidly losing his patience.