Ellery had an idea. It was a chance and no more; but he made up his mind to see Ba Pu, if he was still in the hotel, and to put a few questions. Returning to the hall he asked the porter the number of his room.
“Oh, you mean the Burmese gentleman,” said the porter. “He has a suite on the first floor. His sitting-room is No. 17. He came in only a few minutes ago.”
Ellery made his way to No. 17 and knocked. The Burmese—a small, dark-skinned man with curious twinkling little eyes and quick movements—was in his room and received him with ready courtesy. Ellery presented his card and apologised for intruding upon him.
“Oh, no,” said the Burmese. “You not intrude. Very please.”
“You may think it very strange of me,” said Ellery, “but may I ask you a question without explaining fully why I ask it? It is on a matter of real importance.”
“Ask. Yes,” said the Burmese. “I help if I can.” He spoke English quickly and jerkily, but he evidently understood the language well. “I very glad meet you, Mr. Ellery. I Burmese, come here study the British conditions. Go back Burma tell my people all about this country. You help me. I help you.”
“Then that is a bargain, and I can ask you my question at once. Did you use the writing-room opposite here at any time on the evening of Tuesday, the 17th of this month?”
“Why, that the very day I come here. Yes, I use him that night. I came here study your conditions. I want meet all your famous men. I go there write letters ask them meet me. I write your Mr. Bernard Shaw, your Mr. Wells, your Mr. Arnold Bennett.”
Ellery interrupted. “Can you tell me at what time that evening you were in the writing-room?”
“Yes, I tell you. I come here to stay. Evening I wish write letters. I wish at once to meet your famous men. I go to writing-room door. I peep in. I see gentleman there, writing. He not notice me; but I shy. I steal away.”