So far, results were a blank. Loy Rook usually talked in English; occasionally he indulged in Chinese conversation with visitors. On those occasions, Harry was at a disadvantage; nevertheless, he was always alert in case something suspicious might take place.
IT was nearly noon when a young Chinaman entered the office and demanded to see Loy Rook. Harry’s employer was out. The visitor said that he would wait. There was something about the stranger’s manner that impressed Harry. This young Chinese — almost American in appearance — was restless. An unusual trait among his race, Harry decided.
Half an hour later, Loy Rook came in. He greeted his visitor, and Harry heard the name he called him — Luke Froy. They chatted in English — Loy Rook and Luke Froy — then they broke into a verbal display of Chinese.
In the midst of it, Harry’s alert ears caught a word that sounded very much like li-shun. Loy Rook wound up his conversation in English.
“Tonight,” he said. “You come back. See me then.”
“When?”
“Eleven o’clock. Not to office. You know where.”
Luke Froy nodded and departed. Loy Rook beckoned to Harry.
“Come with me,” he said.
He led the way to the back of the second floor, where Harry’s room was located. He stopped in front of a tall, double-sectional bookcase, which Harry had often noticed.