"I couldn't follow him, Craig," I confessed.

"Too bad," frowned Craig evidently greatly worried by what had
happened, as he folded the note. "Walter," he added seriously, "I
want you to go find the fellow." He handed me the note. "And if
anything separates us to-day--give this note to Elaine."

I did not pay much attention to the tone he assumed, but often
afterward I pondered over it and the serious and troubled look on
his face. I was too chagrined at losing my man to think much of it
then. I took the note and hurried out again after him.

Meanwhile, as nearly as I can now make out, Kennedy searched the
dead man again. There was certainly no clue to his identity on
him, nor had he the torpedo model. Craig looked about. Suddenly,
he fell flat on his stomach.

There was Wu Fang himself, coming to the wharf, carrying the model
of the torpedo which had been stolen in Washington and brought up
to him by his emissary.

Kennedy, crouching down and taking advantage of every object that
sheltered him, crawled cautiously into an angle. Unsuspecting, Wu
came to the land-end of the wharf.

There he saw his lieutenant, dead--and the smoke signal still
beside him, unlighted. He bent over in amazement and examined the
man.

From his hiding-place Kennedy crept stealthily. He had scarcely