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“Not going to rob us of one of our most distinguished guests, are you, Charlie?” he inquired.

Chan smiled. “That is a matter yet to be determined.”

“Quite a little affair down the beach last night,” Murdock continued. “And you're in the limelight, as usual. Some people have all the luck.”

“Which they pay for by having also all the worry,” Chan reminded him. “You are in soft berth here. Fish course last night was excellent. Did you taste it?”

“I did.”

“So did I—and that was as far as I got,” sighed Chan. “Limelight has many terrible penalties.” He glanced about the room. “Our object is to search thoroughly and leave no trace. Fortune favors, however, for we have plenty time.”

He and the Chief went to work systematically, while the house detective lolled in a comfortable chair with a cigar. The closets, the bureau drawers and the desk were all gone over carefully. Finally Charlie stood before a trunk. “Locked,” he remarked.

Murdock got up. “That’s nothing. I’ve a skeleton key that will fix it.” He opened the trunk, which was of the wardrobe variety, and swung it wide. Chan lifted out one drawer, and gave a little cry of satisfaction.

“Here is one thing we seek,” Chief, he cried, and produced a portable typewriter. Placing it on the desk, he inserted a sheet of note-paper and struck off a few sentences. “Just a word of warning from a friend. You should go at once to the Honolulu Public Library and——” He finished the note, and taking another from his pocket, compared the two. With a pleased smile he carried them to his Chief.