15. BOUND EAST FROM HONOLULU
The chief was bending over Duff. His face very grave, he rose from his knees and looked wonderingly at Chan. “What does this mean, Charlie?” he wanted to know.
The Chinese pointed to the open window. “Shot,” he explained tersely. “Shot in back by bullet entering from there. Poor Inspector Duff. He comes to our quiet city in search of murderer in traveling party landing at this port to-day, and tonight murderer attempts to ply his trade.”
“Of all the damned impertinence,” cried the chief, suddenly enraged. “A man shot down in the Honolulu police station—”
Chan nodded. “Even worse than that. Shot down in my very office, of which I have been so proud. Until this killer is captured, I am laughing stock of world.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t put it that way,” the chief sai
