He turned as if he thought the interview was over. Behind the man's back Ranville's eyes met Carter's, and there was a little amused look in them. He reached the door before Carter spoke:
“Will you go with me and tell your story to the chief of police?”
The man turned quickly. There seemed to be a surprised tone in his voice as he replied:
“The police? Why, no, why should I bother with them. You can tell them what I have said.”
He smiled and added sarcastically: “They can find me. I am in Cooperstown—at the Inn.” Then bowing very low, he begged us not to go to the door, and went out into the air.
For a moment after his steps died away no one spoke. The man had gone as quietly as he had arrived. His story, to say the least, was odd. Then, with a decided shake of his head, Carter burst forth:
“Well, what do you think of that yarn? For my part I don't believe it.”
“It is pretty hard to say, Carter,” Ranville laughed in reply. “I have had a good deal of experience with the Chinese, and it has been my idea that it is almost impossible to say what goes on back of their almond-shaped eyes. Yet he may have told the truth, at that.”
“I don't believe it,” was Carter's energetic protest. “That Chinaman was about as smooth an article as I have ever seen. It's my idea he knew it was only a question of a day or so before he would have been traced. That's why he came around and told that yarn. There is no way of saying it is not so; his word is as good as ours.”
He brought his fist down on the arm of his chair, then added: “But there is one thing I can do. I will wire my chief in Washington and get all the information there is about him. If he has been around the Embassy, the chief will have the dope on him.”