There was a knock at the door. They all three turned towards it a little impatiently. Even Pamela and her brother felt the grip of an absorbing problem. To their surprise, it was Lutchester who reappeared upon the threshold. In his hand he held a small sealed packet.
"So sorry to disturb you all," he apologised. "I have something here which I believe belongs to you, Miss Van Teyl. I thought I'd better bring it up and explain. From the way your little Japanese friend was holding on to it, I thought it might be important. It is a little torn, but that isn't my fault."
He held it out to Pamela. It was a long packet torn open at one end. From it was protruding a worn, brown pocketbook. Pamela's hand closed upon it mechanically. There was a dazed look in her eyes. Fischer's fingers stole once more towards the pocket into which, at Lutchester's entrance, he had slipped his revolver.
Lutchester, to all appearance, remained sublimely unconscious of the tension which his words and appearance seemed to have created. He had strolled a little further into the room, and was looking down at the packet which he still held.
"You are wondering how I got hold of this, of course?" he observed. "Just one of those simple little coincidences which either mean a great deal or nothing at all."
"How did you know it was mine?" Pamela asked, almost under her breath.
"I'll explain," Lutchester continued. "I was in the lobby of the hotel, a few minutes ago, when I heard the fire bell outside. I hurried out and watched the engines go by from the sidewalk. I have always been rather interested in--"
"Never mind that, please. Go on," Pamela asked, almost under her breath.
"Certainly," Lutchester assented. "On the way back, then, I saw a little Japanese, who was coming out of the hotel, knocked down by a taxicab which skidded nearly into the door. I don't think he was badly hurt--I'm not even sure that he was hurt at all. I picked up this packet from the spot where he had been lying, and I was on the point of taking it to the office when I saw your name upon it, Miss Van Teyl, in what seemed to me to be your own handwriting, so I thought I'd bring it up."
He laid it upon the table. Pamela's eyes seemed fastened upon it. She turned it over nervously.