and did not come down again. Cadby, who was there disguised, noted a
booming sound. Later, he identified the lascar in some mortuary. We
have no means of fixing the date of this visit to Shen-Yan's, but I
feel inclined to put down the 'lascar' as the dacoit who was murdered
by Fu-Manchu! It is sheer supposition, however. But that Cadby meant
to pay another visit to the place in a different 'make-up' or disguise,
is evident, and that the Tuesday night proposed was last night is a
reasonable deduction. The reference to a pigtail is principally
interesting because of what was found on Cadby's body."

Inspector Weymouth nodded affirmatively, and Smith glanced at his watch.

"Exactly ten-twenty-three," he said. "I will trouble you, Inspector,
for the freedom of your fancy wardrobe. There is time to spend an hour
in the company of Shen-Yan's opium friends."

Weymouth raised his eyebrows.

"It might be risky. What about an official visit?"

Nayland Smith laughed.

"Worse than useless! By your own showing, the place is open to
inspection. No; guile against guile! We are dealing with a Chinaman,
with the incarnate essence of Eastern subtlety, with the most
stupendous genius that the modern Orient has produced."

"I don't believe in disguises," said Weymouth, with a certain
truculence. "It's mostly played out, that game, and generally leads to
failure. Still, if you're determined, sir, there's an end of it.
Foster will make your face up. What disguise do you propose to adopt?"

"A sort of Dago seaman, I think; something like poor Cadby. I can rely
on my knowledge of the brutes, if I am sure of my disguise."

"You are forgetting me, Smith," I said.

He turned to me quickly.

"Petrie," he replied, "it is MY business, unfortunately, but it is no
sort of hobby."

"You mean that you can no longer rely upon me?" I said angrily.

Smith grasped my hand, and met my rather frigid stare with a look of
real concern on his gaunt, bronzed face.

"My dear old chap," he answered, "that was really unkind. You know
that I meant something totally different."

"It's all right, Smith;" I said, immediately ashamed of my choler, and
wrung his hand heartily. "I can pretend to smoke opium as well as
another. I shall be going, too, Inspector."

As a result of this little passage of words, some twenty minutes later
two dangerous-looking seafaring ruffians entered a waiting cab,
accompanied by Inspector Weymouth, and we