Three minutes in which to decide. She walked thoughtfully across the
floor. Should she go? Her money was now almost gone. It was true that a
treasure, which to many would seem a vast fortune, had disappeared from
her father's house over night. It had been taken by force. And she knew
the man who had taken it; had followed him thousands of miles. Now there
had come to her a man of her own race, who assured her that the treasure
was not in the possession of the man who had stolen it, but in the
possession of an honest man who would willingly surrender it to her,
providing only he could be made certain that it was to go directly into
her hands. That this might be, he demanded that she meet him at a
certain place known to the strange Japanese. There she might prove her
property. The story did seem plausible--and her need was great. Soon she
would be cast out upon the world without a penny. So long as she had
money she was welcome at this club; not longer.

There came the purring of a muffled bell in the hall. He had come.

Should she go? A mood of reckless desperation seized her.

"I will," she declared.

The next instant she was tucking a short, gleaming blade beneath her
silk middy and then drawing on a long silk coat.

The man waited in the hallway. He was doubtless prepared for another
extended argument, but none came. Instead, the girl walked down the
steps with him and into a waiting taxi.

It was a rather long ride they took. First speeding along between rows
of apartment houses they at last dashed into the business section of