both—er—"
"We're both old now," she said softly.
"Yes—that's what I mean. I worshipped you, but I—I was a bell-hop—you looked through me—you never saw me. A bit of furniture, that's all I was to you. Oh, I tell you, it hurt my pride—a deep wound, as I said. I swore I'd get on—I knew it, even then. I'd marry you. We can both smile at that now. It didn't work out—even some of my schemes never worked out. But today I own your pearls—they'll hang about my daughter's neck. It's the next best thing. I've bought you out. A deep wound in my pride, but healed at last."
She looked at him, and shook her head. Once she might have resented this, but not now. "You're a strange man," she said.
"I am what I am," he answered. "I had to tell you. Otherwise the triumph would not have been complete."
Eden came in. "Here you are, Mr. Madden. If you'll sign this—thank you."
"You'll get a wire," said Madden. "In New York, remember, and nowhere else. Good day." He turned to Madame Jordan and held out his hand.
She took it, smiling. "Good-bye. I'm not looking through you now. I see you at last."
"And what do you see?"
"A terribly vain man. But a likable one."
"Thank you. I'll remember that. Good-bye."
He left them. Eden sank wearily into a chair. "Well, that's that. He rather wears one out. I wanted to stick for a higher figure, but it looked hopeless. Somehow, I knew he always wins."
"Yes," said Madame Jordan, "he always wins."
"By the way, Sally, I didn't want you to tell that secretary who was bringing the pearls. But you'd better tell me."
"Why, of course. Charlie's bringing them."
"Charlie?"
"Detective-Sergeant Chan, of the Honolulu police. Long ago, in the big house on the beach, he was our number-one boy."
"Chan. A Chinese?"
"Yes. Charlie left us to join the police force, and he's made a fine record there. He's always wanted to come to the mainland, so I've had it all arranged—his leave of absence, his status as a citizen, everything. And he's coming with the pearls. Where could I have found a better messenger? Why—I'd trust Charlie with my life—no, that isn't very precious any more. I'd trust him with the life of the one I loved dearest in the world."
"He's leaving tonight, you said."
"Yes—on the President Pierce. It's due late next Thursday afternoon."
The door opened, and a good-looking young man stood on the threshold. His face was lean and tanned, his manner poised and confident, and his smile had just left Miss Chase day-dreaming in the outer office. "Oh, I'm sorry, dad—if you're busy. Why—look who's here!"
"Bob," cried Madame Jordan. "You rascal—I was hoping to see you. How are you?"
"Just waking into glorious life," he told her. "How are you, and all the other young folks out your way?"
"Fine, thanks. By the way, you dawdled too long over breakfast. Just missed meeting a very pretty girl."
"No, I didn't. Not if you mean Evelyn Madden. Saw her downstairs as I came in—she was talking to one of those exiled grand dukes we employ to wait on the customers. I didn't linger—she's an old story now. Been seeing her everywhere I went for the past week."
"I thought her very charming," Madame Jordan said.
"But an iceberg," objected the boy. "B-r-r—how the wintry winds do blow in her vicinity. However, I guess she comes by it honestly. I passed the great P.J. himself on the stairs."
"Nonsense. Have you ever tried that smile of yours on her?"
"In a way. Nothing special—just the old trade smile. But look here—I'm on to you. You want to interest me in the obsolete institution of marriage."
"It's what you need. It's what all young men need."
"What for?"
"As an incentive. Something to spur you on to get the most out of life."
Bob Eden laughed. "Listen, my dear. When the fog begins to drift in through the Gate, and the lights begin to twinkle on O'Farrell Street—well, I don't want to be hampered by no incentive, lady. Besides, the girls aren't what they were when you were breaking hearts."
"Rot," she answered. "They're very much nicer. The young men are growing silly. Alec, I'll go along."
"I'll get in touch with you next Thursday," the elder Eden said. "By the way—I'm sorry it wasn't more, for your sake."
"It was an amazing lot," she replied. "I'm very happy." Her eyes filled. "Dear dad—he's taking care of me still," she added, and went quickly out.
Eden turned to his son. "I judge you haven't taken a newspaper job yet?"
"Not yet." The boy lighted a cigarette. "Of course, the editors are all after me. But I've been fighting them off."
"Well, fight them off a little longer. I want you to be free for the next two or three weeks. I've a little job for you myself."
"Why of course, dad." He tossed a match into a priceless Kang-Hsi vase. "What sort of job? What do I do?"
"First of all, you meet the President Pierce late next Thursday afternoon."
"Sounds promising. I presume a young woman, heavily veiled, comes ashore—
"No. A Chinese comes ashore."
"A what?"
"A Chinese detective from Honolulu, carrying in his pocket a pearl necklace worth over a quarter of a million dollars."
Bob Eden nodded. "Yes. And after that—"
"After that," said Alexander Eden thoughtfully, "who can say? That may be only the beginning."
Chapter II. The Detective From Hawaii
At six o'clock on the following Thursday evening, Alexander Eden drove to the Stewart Hotel. All day a February rain had spattered over the town, bringing an early dusk. For a moment Eden stood in the doorway of the hotel, staring at the parade of bobbing umbrellas and at the lights along Geary Street, glowing a dim yellow in the dripping mist. In San Francisco age does not matter much, and he felt like a boy again as he rode up in the elevator to Sally Jordan's suite.
She was waiting for him in the doorway of her sitting-room, lovely as a girl in a soft clinging dinner gown of gray. Caste tells, particularly when one has reached the sixties, Eden thought as he took her hand.
"Ah, Alec," she smiled. "Come in. You remember Victor."
Victor
