the foot of St. Johns Wood Road, where he bundled Melky into a taxi-cab, and bade the driver get away to University College Hospital at his best pace. There was little delay in carrying out that order, but it was not such an easy task on arrival at their destination to find any one who could give Ayscough the information he wanted. At last, after they had waited some time in a reception room a young member of the house-staff came in and looked an enquiry.
"What is it you want to know about these two Chinese students?" he asked a little impatiently, with a glance at Ayscough's card. "Is anything wrong?"
"I want to know a good deal!" answered Ayscough. "If not just now, later. You know the two men I mean—Chang Li and Chen Li—brothers, I take it?"
"I know them—they've been students here since about last Christmas," answered the young surgeon. "As a matter of fact they're not brothers—though they're very much alike, and both have the same surname—if Li is a surname. They're friends—not brothers, so they told us."
"When did you see them last?" asked Ayscough.
"Not for some days, now you mention it," replied the surgeon. "Several days. I was remarking on that today—I missed them from a class."
"You say they're very much alike," remarked the detective. "I suppose you can tell one from the other?"
"Of course! But—what is this? I see you're a detective sergeant. Are they in any bother—trouble?"
"The fact of the case," answered Ayscough, "is just this—one of them's lying dead at our mortuary, and I
