Page:The Black Camel (IA blackcamel0000earl).djvu/212

palms, and looking aloft, Charlie saw one of the beach- boys, in a red bathing-suit, climbing the tree with the agility of a monkey. He stood for a moment, admiring the boy’s skill.

“The kid’s clever, eh, Inspector?” remarked a voice at his elbow.

He turned and looked into the smiling gray eyes of Van Horn. They were standing a little apart from the others, and the picture actor was the recipient of many awed, adoring glances from young women who were ostensibly there to watch the beach-boy.

“Ah, Mr. Van Horn,” Chan said. “This meeting is indeed most fortunate. I am calling here for the sole purpose of seeing you.”

“Really?” The actor looked up at the tree. “Well, he seems to have traveled as far as he can on that one. Shall we go on the veranda—pardon me, the lanai— and have a chat?”

“The idea is most suitable,” Charlie agreed. He followed Van Horn and they sat down in a secluded corner. The boy had descended the coco-palm and stood now the center of an admiring group, hugely en- joying the limelight. Chan watched him.

“Sometimes in my heart,” he remarked, “arouses hot envy of the beach-boys. To exist so happily—to have no cares and troubles, no worries—ah, that must be what men mean by Paradise. All they ask of life is one bathing-suit, slightly worn.”

Van Horn laughed. “You have worries, I take it, Inspector?”

Charlie turned to him; he had decided to be frank. “I have.” He paused. “You are one of them,” he added suddenly.