"One moment, Mr. Ainsleigh. Show me the advertisement."
Rupert rose, and going to the writing-desk took therefrom the slip he had cut from the paper. Rodgers read it, quietly. "I see. Here is mentioned the doom of the god, Kwang-ho."
"Lo-Keong's private god of good luck," said the Major.
"Are there private as well as public gods in China?"
Tidman looked perplexed. "I can't say. I know nothing. Wait and hear what I can tell," he settled himself again and began to speak rapidly. "I was in Canton seven years ago," said he, "I had made my money here, and didn't intend to travel again. But Miss Wharf persuaded me to go to China, to see if I could find out why Markham Ainsleigh had been killed."
Rupert looked astonished. "Why? she hated my father."
"She loved him first and hated him later," said Tidman, quietly, "a fine woman was poor Miss Wharf. I was in love with her--"
"I never knew that Tidman."
"I was though," said the Major, "and Miss Pewsey hated me for being in love with her. I spoke badly of Miss Wharf to you Ainsleigh because I was angered with her--"
"You called her a mass of granite."