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Will’s eyes I saw the light of romantic memory; stopping off on her way to China she had known Waikiki Beach in the moonlight when the Southern Cross hung low. Detective Barnes stood blinking at Mrs. MacShane with what was, for him, a rather stupid expression. Suddenly Mark Drew leaped to his feet and began excitedly to pace the floor. Barnes turned toward him.
“Well, Mr. Drew—and where does this get us?” he inquired.
“I don’t know,” said Drew. “But it may get us quite a distance—before we’re finished.”
“I can’t follow you,” the detective replied. “Though it is a rather startling bit of news—I’ll admit that. The birthday of Hung Chin-chung! Born fifty years ago in Honolulu. Your father thinks so much of him he decides to give him a birthday party. He goes to a lot of trouble to get candles, and—say, how long was the Chink with your family?”
