“My man heard about the row.  He guessed, too, that it had something to do with us.  The policeman was badly injured, he was told.”

“Yes—­ nothing broken; he was put to sleep by some confounded Japanese wrestling trick.”

“Japanese, you say?”

“Precisely.  The Young Manchus are being backed up by a second gang which calls itself the ‘Sons of Nippon.’  I don’t know what London is coming to.  We’ve entertained Anarchists, Nihilists and Dynamitards for years.  Now we have the Yellow Peril with us.  I wish I were King for a few days.  There would be a bigger clearance of reptiles out of England than St. Patrick made in Ireland.”

“Mr. Handyside here told me only ten minutes since that he was convinced there were Japs in league with the Chinese.”

“How did you know?” and Furneaux whirled round on the American instantly.

“By using the gray matter at the back of my head,” was the reply.  “No Chink ever taught Wong Li Fu how to put away two chesty individuals like Mr. Theydon and your painter, Mr. Winter.  But I couldn’t be sure till I had seen the ivory skull.  Then I knew.”

“So did I know yesterday morning,” said Furneaux, “and a deuce of a time the discovery gave me.  Anyhow, the street fight outside Innesmore Mansions at daybreak today settles the matter.  There were two Japanese and one Chinaman.  The Japs outed the policeman.  Fortunately he and another man made a five-minute point at each end of the mansions, and, as No. 1 failed to turn up, No. 2 went to look for him.  He saw the end of the row, and ran to help, blowing his whistle for assistance.  Unfortunately for us, two of the three confounded blackguards escaped.”

“O, you’ve got one, then?” cried Theydon.

“Yes, a Jap.  The constable was wise enough to give him the point of his truncheon in the gullet, and that settled him.”

“I wonder if he is the one who would have been shot had he broken into my flat,” said Theydon musingly.

“Shot!  Man alive, you’d never have heard him!”

“Not till he had a bullet lodged securely in his inside, it is true.  Bates and I surveyed that lift last night, Mr. Furneaux, and regarded it as the weak part of our defenses, so we arranged that an automatic pistol should live up to its name, and fire at any one who opened the sliding panel.”

“Did you now?” said Furneaux admiringly.  “Whose brainy idea was that—­ yours or Bates’s?”

“A joint effort,” he said, with a self-satisfied smile.

“Well, I’m glad it didn’t come off.  British law is a fearsome and wonderful thing.  You might both have got ten years for fixing a man-trap, to wit, a lethal engine.  However, during the next few days you’re going to change your abode.  Tell Bates and his wife that they need a holiday, and ought to visit relatives in Yorkshire or North Wales.  Pack what you need for a week, at least, and make straight for Fortescue Square.”