"Some of them will," she answered, lighting a cigarette with an injured air. "The collection of Oriental antiques is a great hobby in my set. It's been a game to see who could get the rarest relic by fair means or foul. Betty Elston got hold of a priceless Ming vase in Canton, and she's gloated over the rest of us until I've wanted to kick her little—well, anyway, I heard about the Kao Tsu dragon in San Francisco, and I came all the way to Singapore to get it. It dates from the Early Han Dynasty, and it's the only one of its kind in the world. I knew Ahmed wouldn't sell it, so I hired you to have it stolen for me."
Clanton picked up the yellowed figure and turned it about.
"I dunno," he mused. "Ram Lal got into Ahmed's house and swiped this. He's the slickest thief on the Peninsula. But if it's the wrong one, he might be afraid to risk another try. Ahmed's bad business."
"But he's been paid, and it isn't the right dragon!" she snapped. "What kind of a man would he be to take money under false pretences?"
"Hire a thief and then squawk if he gyps
"I'm going with you," she decided. "I don't trust either of you."
"It's no place for a white woman," he warned her.
She tilted a scornful nose.
"I can take care of myself, Mister Clanton—otherwise I'd never have dared to have any dealings with you! I'll pick you up near the mosque on Muscat Street. And I don't want to have to drag you out from under some table, or away from some brown-skinned wench, either."
"I'll be there, sober and respectable," he assured her. "But how about a little drink before you go?"
"No, thanks!" she declined. "I prefer to keep our relationship on a strictly business basis; and whiskey gives men ideas. I'll see you at dusk."
And she swung out of the room with a long-legged, hip-swaying gait that made Clanton moan with despair and grab the whiskey bottle. She had him buffaloed. If she'd been anybody else, he'd have made a pass at her, regardless. But there was a limit even to his audacity, and he didn't dare try any rough stuff on the daughter of Old Man Allison, millionaire and woolly wolf of finance that the old devil was.
He turned the ivory dragon about in bis hands and frowned.
"Antique collectin', eh? Hokum!"
RISING, he bellowed to a half-caste waiter, plunked a coin on the table and barged out of a side door. A few moments later he was seated in a silk shop kept by one Yakub, an old Jew who had a finger in many enterprises besides the one advertised by the sign over his door, and whose ear was always close to the mysterious pulse of the East. Clanton set the ivory dragon before him and demanded: "What's that?"
Yakub donned square, steel-rimmed spectacles, and regarded it.
"That's the Kao Tsu dragon," he said. "But I wouldn't handle it for you. You must have stolen it from Shareef Ahmed. I love life too much to handle anything stolen from that devil."
"It's a fake," asserted Clanton.
"If it's a fake, I'm a Gentile." answered old Yakub, lovingly fondling its smooth surface. "Tchk, tchk! Such a pity! I'd buy it myself if I weren't afraid of Ahmed. He'll slit your throat for this, sure."
"You'll swear it's genuine?" Clanton demanded.
"My head on it!" The old man's sincerity was convincing.
"Hmmm!" Clanton's scowl deepened. "I wonder what that hussy's tryin' to put over?"
Then he asked Yakub a strange question, and received a stranger answer.
IF Marianne Allison had known of that conversation, her poise might have been a trifle less confident when her big coupé purred up to the curb where Clanton stood, just as the street lights were coming on. He climbed in beside her and she turned off down a side-street according to his directions.
"Did you bring any money, in case Ram Lal wants more?" he asked.
"I should say not!" she retorted. "He's been paid enough. He owes me any future service it takes to get the right dragon."
"You're an arrogant wench," he observed, his eyes glued on a rounded knee. Through accident or design her dress had worked up again, baring an inch of white skin above the stocking-top.
"When you get through inspecting my leg," she suggested, "you might tell me which way to turn at this next intersection."
She smiled cruelly as he reluctantly turned his attention to the street. Feeling perfectly safe from him, she took a feminine delight in tantalizing him. She was aware of her effect on him, and she enjoyed seeing the veins in his forehead swell with frustrated emotion.
