He left a few thousands to the son, and the son is now in business for himself with an office in lower Broad Street.

He is an importer of brown sugar." "Brown sugar ?" queried Mr.Czenki quickly, and the thin, scarred face reflected for a second some subtle emotion within him.

"Brown sugar!" he repeated.
"Yes," drawled the detective, with an unpleasant stare, "brown sugar.
He imports it from Cuba and Porto Rico and Brazil by the shipload, I understand, and makes a good thing of it." A quick pallor overspread Mr.Czenki's countenance, and he arose with his fingers working nervously.

His beady eyes were glittering; his lips were pressed together until they were bloodless.
"_Vas iss ?_" demanded Mr.Schultze curiously.
"My God, gentlemen, don't you see ?" the expert burst out violently.
"Don't you see what this man has done?
He has--he has--" Suddenly, by a supreme effort, he regained control of himself, and resumed his seat.
"He has--what ?" asked Mr.Latham.
For half a minute Czenki stared at his employer; then his face grew impassive again.
"I beg your pardon," he said quietly.

"Mr.Wynne is a heavy importer of sugar from Brazil.