“Sin Sin is at home,” declared Bryce.  “That’s the raven.”

“Does he take the thing about with him, then?”

“I don’t think so.  But he puts it in a cupboard when he goes out, and it never talks unless it can see a light.”

Bolts were unfastened and the door was opened.  Out through the moving curtain of fog shone the red glow from a stove.  A grotesque silhouette appeared outlined upon the dim redness.

“You wantchee me?” crooned Sin Sin Wa.

“I do!” rapped Kerry.  “I’ve called to look for opium.”

He stepped past the Chinaman into the dimly lighted room.  As he did so, the cause of an apparent deformity which had characterized the outline of Sin Sin Wa became apparent.  From his left shoulder the raven partly arose, moving his big wings, and: 

“Smartest leg!” it shrieked in Kerry’s ear and rattled imaginary castanets.

The Chief Inspector started, involuntarily.

“Damn the thing!” he muttered.  “Come in, Bryce, and shut the door.  What’s this?”

On a tea-chest set beside the glowing stove, the little door of which was open, stood a highly polished squat wooden image, gilded and colored red and green.  It was that of a leering Chinaman, possibly designed to represent Buddha, and its jade eyes seemed to blink knowingly in the dancing rays from the stove.

“Sin Sin Wa’s Joss,” murmured the proprietor, as Bryce closed the outer door.  “Me shinee him up; makee Joss glad.  Number one piecee Joss.”

Kerry turned and stared into the pock-marked smiling face.  Seen in that dim light it was not unlike the carved face of the image, save that the latter possessed two open eyes and the Chinaman but one.  The details of the room were indiscernible, lost in yellowish shadow, but the eye of the raven and the eye of Sin Sin Wa glittered like strange jewels.

“H’m,” said Kerry.  “Sorry to interrupt your devotions.  Light us.”

“Allee velly proper,” crooned Sin Sin Wa.

He took up the Joss tenderly and bore it across the room.  Opening a little cupboard set low down near the floor he discovered a lighted lantern.  This he took out and set upon the dirty table.  Then he placed the image on a shelf in the cupboard and turned smilingly to his visitors.

“Number one p’lice!” shrieked the raven.

“Here!” snapped Kerry.  “Put that damn thing to bed!”

“Velly good,” murmured Sin Sin Wa complacently.

He raised his hand to his shoulder and the raven stepped sedately from shoulder to wrist.  Sin Sin Wa stooped.

“Come, Tling-a-Ling,” he said softly.  “You catchee sleepee.”

The raven stepped down from his wrist and walked into the cupboard.

“So fashion, lo!” said Sin Sin Wa, closing the door.

He seated himself upon a tea-chest beside the useful cupboard, resting his hands upon his knees and smiling.

Kerry, chewing steadily, had watched the proceedings in silence, but now: