CHAPTER VIII.
ART, MYSTERY AND LOVE.
The little Jap was still posed in an attitude of bewilderment as the two outside doors slammed and Officer 666 went down the front steps to resume the tread of his beat and the breaking of fragile hearts.
When he did emerge from his trance he returned to the task of getting the great room in order with the same snappy energy he had displayed when the uniformed minion of the law broke in upon him. He had removed the covers from the chairs and was dusting off a great carved chest that stood against the wall to the right of the doorway when the door bell rang. Bateato jumped and then waited for a second ring. Stepping warily out into the hallway, he looked to see if it was the grim official in blue and buttons.
“Ha!” he exclaimed. “No more police,” and he shot to the door and opened it for that debonnair young gentleman who was one day to inherit the mustard millions of Old Grim Barnes.
“Hello there, Bateato,” Whitney Barnes greeted the little Jap cordially. “Did your master show up yet?”
“He no come,” grinned Bateato, shutting the door and leading the way into the room he had been preparing for his master’s arrival. As Whitney Barnes stepped into the room the Jap asked:
“’Scuse me, Mr. Barnes––you see Mr. Gladwin?”