shortly. Until I do he's to lie low. Is that understood?"
"Perfectly, Mr. Madden. I'm sorry this thing has dragged out as it has—"
"Oh, that's all right. You go and tell Ah Kim I said he was to drive you to Eldorado—unless your movie friends are coming out here for you."
"No—I shall have to enlist Ah Kim again. Thank you, sir. I'll be back soon."
"Good luck," answered Madden.
Hastily Eden threw a few things into his suitcase, and waited in the yard for Ah Kim and the flivver. Gamble appeared.
"Not leaving us, Mr. Eden?" he inquired in his mild way.
"No such luck—for you," the boy replied. "Just a short trip."
"On business, perhaps?" persisted the professor gently.
"Perhaps," smiled Eden, and the car with its Chinese chauffeur appearing at that moment, he leaped in.
Again he and Chan were abroad in the yellow glory of a desert sunset. "Well, Charlie," Eden said, "I'm a little new at this detective business. What am I to do first?"
"Toss all worry out of mind. I shall hover round your elbow, doing prompt work."
"You? How are you going to get away?"
"Easy thing. Tomorrow morning I announce I take day off to visit sick brother in Los Angeles. Very ancient plea of all Chinese servants. Madden will be angry, but he will not suspect. Train leaves Eldorado at seven in the morning, going to Pasadena. I am aboard, reaching there at eleven. You will, I hope, condescend to meet me at station?"
"With the greatest pleasure. We take Pasadena first, eh?"
"So I would plan it. We ascertain Madden's movements there on Wednesday. What happened at bank? Did he visit home? Then Hollywood, and maybe Eddie Boston. After that, we ask the lady soprano to desist from singing and talk a little time."
"All right, but we're going to be a fine pair," Eden replied, "with no authority to question anybody. You may be a policeman in Honolulu, but that isn't likely to go very big in Southern California."
Chan shrugged. "Ways will open. Paths will clear."
"I hope so," the boy answered. "And here's another thing. Aren't we taking a big chance? Suppose Madden hears of our antics? Risky, isn't it?"
"Risky pretty good word for it," agreed Chan. "But we are desperate now. We take long gambles."
"I'll say we're desperate," sighed Eden. "Me, I'm getting desperater every minute. I may as well tell you that if we come back from this trip with no definite light on things, I'll be strongly tempted to lift a big burden from your stomach—and my mind."
"Patience very nice virtue," smiled Chan.
"Well, you ought to know," Eden said. "You've got a bigger supply on hand than any man I ever met."
When they reached the Desert Edge Hotel, Eden was relieved to see Paula Wendell's car parked in front. They waited by the little roadster, and while they did so, Will Holley came along. They told him of their plans.
"I can help you a bit," said the editor. "Madden has a caretaker at his Pasadena house—a fine old chap named Peter Fogg. He's been down here several times, and I know him rather well." He wrote on a card. "Give him that, and tell him I sent you."
"Thanks," said Eden. "We'll need it, or I'm much mistaken."
Paula Wendell appeared.
"Great news for you," Eden announced. "I'm riding with you as far as Pasadena."
"Fine," she replied. "Jump in."
Eden climbed into the roadster. "See you boys later," he called, and the car started.
"You ought to get a regular taxi, with a meter," Eden suggested.
"Nonsense. I'm glad to have you."
"Are you really?"
"Certainly am. Your weight will help to keep the car on the road."
"Lady, you surely can flatter," he told her. "I'll drive, if you like."
"No, thanks—I guess I'd better. I know the roads."
"You're always so efficient, you make me nervous," he commented.
"I wasn't so efficient when it came to Eddie Boston. I'm sorry about that."
"Don't you worry. Eddie's a tough bird. Chan and I will try him presently."
"Where does the big mystery stand now?" asked the girl.
"It stands there leering at us," the boy replied. "Just as it always has." For a time they speculated on Madden's unexplained murder of Delaney. Meanwhile they were climbing between the hills, while the night gathered about them. Presently they dropped down into a green fertile valley, fragrant with the scent of blossoms.
"Um," sighed Eden, breathing deep. "Smells pretty. What is it?"
The girl glanced at him. "You poor, benighted soul. Orange blossoms."
"Oh! Well, naturally I couldn't be expected to know that."
"Of course not."
"The condemned man gets a rather pleasant whiff in his last moments, doesn't he? I suppose it acts like ether—and when he comes to, he's married." A reckless driver raced toward them on the wrong side of the road. "Look out!"
"I saw him coming," said the girl. "You're safe with me. How many times must I tell you that?"
They had dinner and a dance or two at an inn in Riverside, and all too soon, it seemed to Eden, arrived at Pasadena. The girl drove up before the Maryland Hotel, prepared to drop him.
"But look here," he protested. "I'll see you safely to Hollywood, of course."
"No need of that," she smiled. "I'm like you. I can take care of myself."
"Is that so?"
"Want to see me tomorrow?"
"Always want to see you tomorrow. Chan and I are coming over your way. Where can we find you?"
She told him she would be at the picture studio at one o'clock, and with a gay good-bye, disappeared down the brightly-lighted stretch of Colorado Street. Eden went in to a quiet night at the hotel.
After breakfast in the morning he recalled that an old college friend named Spike Bristol was reported in the class histories as living now in Pasadena. The telephone directory furnished Bristol's address, and Eden set out to find him. His friend turned out to be one of the more decorative features of a bond office.
"Bond salesman, eh?" said Eden, when the greetings were over.
"Yes—it was either that or real estate," replied Bristol. "I was undecided for some time. Finally I picked this."
"Of
