"Will you come along, or must I knock you down first?", Chiao Tai asked threateningly.

"Shall we let ourselves be bullied by these running-dogs of the tribunal?", Ma Joong asked the crowd.

He noticed to his secret satisfaction that no one made a move.

Ma Joong shrugged his shoulders.

"All right", he said, "the tribunal has nothing on me!"

Chiao Tai bound his hands on his back.

Ma Joong turned round.

"Listen", he said, "I have a sick friend. Let me give that flour-cake peddler here a few coppers to take some food to him. The man cannot move!"

"Where is that fellow?", Chiao Tai asked.

Ma Joong hesitated a while. Then he said reluctantly:

"Well, to tell you the truth, last night he went up the Drum Tower over there to enjoy the fresh air. He fell down the steps and broke his leg. He is lying now on the second floor."

The crowd guffawed.

"I think", Chiao Tai said, "that the tribunal would like to see that patient of yours!" Turning to the crowd he added: "Let someone run to the warden and call him here with four men, a stretcher and a few old blankets!"

Soon the warden came running along with four sturdy fellows carrying bamboo poles.

"Warden, look after this ruffian!", Chiao Tai ordered.

He beckoned two of the men and went to the Drum Tower.

Chiao Tai climbed the stairs with the blankets over his shoulder. The Uigur was still unconscious. Chiao Tai quickly pasted a piece of oil paper over his mouth. Then he rolled him in one of the blankets and wrapped the other round the Uigur's head and shoulders. He called down the stairs. The warden's men came up to carry the limp form down.

The Uigur was laid on the improvised stretcher. The procession set out for the tribunal, Chiao Tai leading the way dragging Ma Joong along.

They entered by the side gate. As soon as they were inside Chiao Tai said to the warden:

"Put the stretcher down here. You and your men can go!"

As Chiao Tai locked the gate behind them Ma Joong slipped his hands out of the loose ropes. Together with Chiao Tai he carried the stretcher to the jail. They laid the Uigur on the couch in a small cell.

While Ma Joong bandaged the wounded man's head, Chiao Tai cut open his baggy trousers and attached a rough splint to the broken leg.

Ma Joong hurried out to report to the judge.

Chiao Tai locked the door of the cell. He then stood with his back to the door. When the warden of the jail came along, Chiao Tai told him that he had caught a violent ruffian; he would inquire his name as soon as he had calmed down.

Judge Dee's private office was empty but for Tao Gan, who sat dozing in a corner.

Ma Joong shook him awake and asked excitedly:

"Where is His Excellency?"

Tao Gan looked up.

"The judge went out with Sergeant Hoong shortly after you and Chiao Tai had left", he replied testily. "What is all the excitement? Did you catch that Uigur fellow?"

"Better than that", Ma Joong said proudly, "we caught the murderer of Magistrate Pan!"

"That will cost you a round of wine tonight, brother!", Tao Gan said contentedly. "Well, His Excellency ordered me to go and invite Yoo Kee to visit the tribunal later this afternoon. I suppose that the judge wants to question him about the death of the old caretaker of the country mansion and his wife. I had better be off!"

After Ma Joong and Chiao Tai had left, Judge Dee took a paper from the pile on the desk. He looked at it but did not seem to absorb its contents.

Sergeant Hoong knew that the judge was worried.

Judge Dee impatiently threw down the document. He said:

"I don't mind telling you, Sergeant, that if Ma Joong and Chiao Tai do not succeed in catching that man, we shall find ourselves in a most dangerous position!"

"They have done more difficult jobs than that, Your Honour!", the sergeant said reassuringly.

Judge Dee made no comment. For half an hour he concentrated on various official documents.

At last he put down his writing brush.

"It is no use sitting waiting here any longer", he said curtly. "Evidently Ma Joong and Chiao Tai have seen a chance to arrest their man without attracting attention. The weather is fine, let us go and see whether we can find that Master Crane Robe!"

Sergeant Hoong knew from long experience that action always was the best sedative when the judge was harassed. He quickly went out to order two horses.

They left the tribunal by the main gate, heading south. They galloped over the marble bridge and passed through the southern city gate.

After they had ridden for some time along the main road, a peasant directed them to a narrow path that led to the mountains. It ended at the foot of a steep ridge.

Judge Dee and the sergeant jumped down from their horses. Sergeant Hoong handed a few coppers to a wood gatherer and asked him to look after the horses for an hour or so. Then they began the ascent.

A strenuous climb took them to the top of the pine-clad ridge. Judge Dee paused there a while to regain his breath. Looking down on the verdurous valley that spread out at his feet he lifted his arms and enjoyed the cool mountain breeze that blew through his wide sleeves.

When Sergeant Hoong too had rested himself they slowly descended by the winding path.

As they went down into the valley, the air became curiously still. The murmur of a brook was the only sound they heard.

They crossed the river by a narrow stone bridge. A side path led to a low thatched roof that was partly visible in the midst of the green foliage. The path took them through dense undergrowth to a crudely made bamboo gate.

Inside they found a small garden. On both sides stood flowering plants of well-nigh a man's height. The judge thought that he had never seen such a profusion of magnificent flowers.

The plaster walls of the small house were overgrown with vine; they seemed to sag under the load of the thatched roof, green with moss. A few rickety wooden steps led up to a single door of unpainted boards. It stood ajar.

Judge Dee meant to call out that there were visitors but somehow or other he felt reluctant to break the quiet atmosphere. He pushed aside the plants that grew by the side of the house.

He saw a rustic verandah made of bamboo poles. A very old man clad in a ragged robe was watering a row of potted flowers. He had a large round straw hat on his head. The delicate fragrance of orchids hung in the air.

Judge Dee pushed the branches further apart and called out: "Is Master Crane Robe at home?"

The old man turned round. The lower half of his face was concealed by a thick moustache and a long white beard, the rest was covered by the broad rim of the hat. He did not answer but made a vague gesture in the direction of the house.

Then he put down his watering pot and disappeared behind the house without saying a word.

Judge Dee was not very pleased with this casual reception. He curtly told Sergeant-Hoong to wait outside.

As the sergeant sat down on the bench near the gate, Judge Dee ascended the steps and entered the house.

He found himself in a large, empty room. The wooden floor was bare and so were the white plaster walls. The furniture consisted of a rough wooden table and two footstools in front of the low, broad window, and a bamboo table against the back wall. It looked like the interior of a peasant's house. But everything was scrupulously clean.

There was no sign of the host. Judge Dee felt annoyed and began to regret that he had come all this way.

With a sigh he sat down on one of the footstools and looked out of the window.