ss Chaine must go home."

"No, no; let me come," she begged. "It is not far. I _must_ know."

So, in the end, she got her way, and they all approached the bungalow
together. It was in utter darkness, and the men had to rap loud and
long before any response came from within. At last Saxby's voice was
heard inquiring who the deuce, and what the deuce, etc., etc., at that
time of the night--followed by his appearance in the doorway with a
candle.

"We want to come in and look for Roddy," said Saltire briefly, and,
without further ado, pushed the burly man aside and entered, followed
by McNeil. Christine, too, entered, and sat down inside the door. She
was very exhausted. Saxby appeared too flabbergasted to move for a
moment. Then he remonstrated with considerable heat.

"What do you mean by this? You don't seem to know that you are in my
house!"

But the other two had already passed through the empty sitting-room to
the one beyond, and were casting lantern-gleams from side to side,
examining everything.

"You must be crazy to think the boy is here," Saxby blustered, as they
re-emerged. They paid not the slightest attention to him, but
continued their search into the kitchen, the only other room of the
house.

"No," said Saltire, very quietly, as he came back into the room and set
the light on the table; "the boy is not here. But where is Mrs. Saxby?"

Saxby's face had grown rather pallid, but his jaw was set in a dogged
fashion.

"That is _my_ business," he said harshly.

It was Saltire whose face and manner had become subtly agreeable.

"Oh, no, Saxby; it is all of our business at present. What I find so
strange is that nowhere in the house is there any sign or token that a
woman lives here, or has ever lived here. It seems to me that needs a
little explaining."

"You'll get no explanation from me," was the curt answer.

"I think you had better tell us something about it," said Saltire
pleasantly. He held the lantern high, and it lighted up a shelf upon
which stood some curious glass jars with perforated stoppers. "I see
you have a fine collection of live tarantulas and scorpions. I
remember now I have often seen you groping among the aloes. Curious
hobby!"

"Get out of my house!" said Saxby, with sudden rage.

"And is the snake still in the box?" asked Saltire, approaching the
table where the cardboard box still occupied its central position, with
the heavy iron on top of it.

"Don'