His apology was so evidently sincere that Harley relented at once. "Please say no more, Doctor McMurdoch," he responded. "I fully appreciate your feelings in the matter. At such a time a stranger can only be an intruder; but"—he fixed his keen eyes upon the physician—"there is more underlying all this than you suspect or could readily believe. You will live to know that I have spoken the truth."
"I know it now," declared the Scotsman, solemnly. "Abingdon was always eccentric, but he didn't know the meaning of fear."
"Once that may have been true," replied Harley. "But a great fear was upon him when he came to me, Doctor McMurdoch, and if it is humanly possible I am going to discover its cause."
"Go ahead," said Doctor McMurdoch and, turning to the side table, he poured out two liberal portions of whiskey. "If there's anything I can do to help, count me at your service. You tell me he had fears about little Phil?"
"He had," answered Harley, "and it is maddening to think that he died before he could acquaint me with their nature. But I have hopes that you can help me in this. For instance"—again he fixed his gaze upon the gloomy face of the physician—"who is the distinguished Oriental gentleman with whom Sir Charles had recently become acquainted?"
Doctor McMurdoch's expression remained utterly
