J. Allan Dunn

“ Cox ordered refreshments. The butler was a Chinaman. Cox's ménage was largely Chinese, he explained, and eminently satisfactory. As a butler the man was perfect—silent, careful, deferential. Not once did he seem to glance from beneath his smooth crescent lids at master or guest while he did his serving; but, as he left the room, McNeill caught one oblique glance from those sloe-black eyes directed at him through the reflection of a mirror. ”

“ McNeill knew what strange tricks imagination plays when one allows any subject of peculiar interest to one's mental or physical welfare to once become dominant. Still he was glad to find the fog had lifted when his car was ordered and he stepped out into the quiet Californian night. Cox pressed him hard to stay until the next morning, when they would motor down together and complete the negotiations that would set McNeill free to go to New York—and Helen. ”

“ For the present he would look out and, when he got to New York, he would safeguard Helen as closely as she would permit. McNeill had no fear of not convincing Cox as to his proposition. Then there would be a good sum coming to him immediately and, with developments, he would be a rich man.
As they crossed the San Mateo line a fog began to thicken, but the driver was used to fogs and the road; the lamps were powerful and they kept on their way, making good progress, until finally they turned in between high walls through iron gates and rolled up to Cox's ornate Italian villa. ”