-Manchu's lair
is somewhere near the former opium-den of Shen-Yan--'Singapore
Charlie'!"

Smith nodded.

"We will turn our attention in that direction," he replied, "at a very
early date."

Inspector Weymouth looked down at the body of Abel Slattin.

"How was it done?" he asked softly.

"Clumsily for Fu-Manchu," I replied. "A snake was introduced into the
house by some means--"

"By Karamaneh!" rapped Smith.

"Very possibly by Karamaneh," I continued firmly. "The thing has
escaped us."

"My own idea," said Smith, "is that it was concealed about his
clothing. When he fell by the open door it glided out of the house. We
must have the garden searched thoroughly by daylight."

"_He_"--Weymouth glanced at that which lay upon the floor--"must be
moved; but otherwise we can leave the place untouched, clear out the
servants, and lock the house up!"

"I have already given orders to that effect," answered Smith. He spoke
wearily and with a note of conscious defeat in his voice. "Nothing has
been disturbed"--he swept his arm around comprehensively--"papers and
so forth you can examine at leisure."

Presently we quitted that house upon which the fateful Chinaman had
set his seal, as the suburb was awakening to a new day. The clank of
milk-cans was my final impression of the avenue to which a dreadful
minister of death had come at the bidding of the death lord. We left
Inspector Weymouth in charge and returned to my rooms, scarcely
exchanging a word upon the way.

Nayland Smith, ignoring my entreaties, composed himself for slumber in
the white cane chair in my study. About noon he retired to the
bath-room and, returning, made a pretence to breakfast; then resumed
his seat in the cane armchair. Carter reported in the afternoon, but
his report was merely formal. Returning from my round of professional
visits at half-past five, I found Nayland Smith in the same position;
and so the day waned into evening, and dusk fell uneventfully.

In the corner of the big room by the empty fireplace, Nayland Smith
lay, his long, lean frame extended in the white cane chair. A tumbler,
from which two straws protruded, stood by his right elbow, and a
perfect continent of tobacco smoke lay between us, wafted towards the
door by the draught from an open window. He had littered the hearth
with matches and tobacco ash, being the most untidy smoker I had ever
met; and save for his frequent rappings out of his pipe bowl and
perpetual strik