who prided himself on being a judge of expressions, it was evident that the younger man was more than the equal of the older. It was Levendale who gave way—and when he took his eyes off Yada, it was to turn to Stephen Purvis.
Stephen Purvis nodded his head once more—and growled a little.
"Make terms with him!" he muttered. "Case of have to, I reckon!"
Levendale turned once more to the Japanese, who smiled on him.
"Look you here, Mr. Yada," said Levendale, "I don't know who you are beyond what I'm told—your card tells me nothing except that you live—lodge, I suppose—in Gower Street. You've got mixed up in this, somehow, and you've got knowledge to dispose of. Now, I don't buy unless I know first what it is I'm buying. So—let's know what you've got to sell?"
Yada swept the room with a glance.
"Before these gentlemen!" he asked. "In open market, eh!"
"They're all either police, or detectives, or concerned," retorted Levendale. "There's no secret. I repeat—what have you got to sell? Specify it!"
Yada lifted his hands and began to check off points on the tips of his fingers.
"Three items, then, Mr. Levendale," he replied cheerfully. "First—the knowledge of who has got the diamond and the money. Second—the knowledge of where he is at this moment, and will be for some hours. Third
