The Yellow Face

by Fred M. White

Anstruther was fighting hard to regain possession of himself. Bates could not but admire the marvelous courage of the man. Anstruther's laugh had something quite genuine about it.

"We are making a great fuss over a little thing," he said. "I came here because Mr. Carrington was not well enough to accompany me. There are certain things of mine in my friend's private safe here, and unfortunately he has lost the key. It was imperative that I should have my property to-night, and that will, perhaps, explain my presence here. Does that satisfy you?"

"I should be easily satisfied if it did," Bates said coolly. "I should like to know, for instance, why you require the assistance of a professional burglar. I know perfectly well that you called in the assistance of 'Simple Charlie,' but I was in a position to force that individual's hand--hence my appearance in his place."

"Really, Mr. Bates," Anstruther smiled. "I had expected better things from you. You are perfectly well aware of the fact that I am acquainted with half the thieves in London. It was no use asking any safe-maker in London to try to pick that lock, because it happens to be a French make. In such awkward circumstances as this it is no new thing to call in a cracksman when things are wanted in a hurry."

"I am afraid that won't do," Bates said. "You had plenty of time to call in legitimate assistance, whereas so recently as last night you visited 'Simple Charlie' and left a note for him."

Anstruther smiled politely. He was perfectly cool and collected now--a match for any detective in the force.

"We can settle the matter in two minutes," he said. "All you have to do is to call in one of your men from outside and send a note to Carrington, who will reply to the effect that I am here with his full knowledge and consent."

"Can't do it," Bates said curtly. "I have no man to send. As a matter of fact, I am alone in this business."

Anstruther bent down his head to conceal a smile. There was something devilish in the cunning ferocity of his eyes. He had discovered an important fact, and Bates did not seem to understand for the moment what he had given away. He felt quite sure that he had matters in his own hands now. He strolled slowly round the table, and proceeded to examine carefully the lock of the safe.

"Do you really think you could open this?" he asked. "If you could I should have no difficulty in proving to you----" Anstruther broke off suddenly; his left foot shot out dexterously, and Bates came half stumbling on his knees. Like lightning Anstruther grabbed for the revolver. He had Bates's wrist in a grip of steel, forcing his hand back till the fingers were bound to relax their grip on the weapon. A moment later the revolver was kicked away, and the two men were struggling desperately on the floor.