have died
at the Gables within the last six months."

"You begin to interest me," declared Smith, and there came something of
the old, eager look into his gaunt face, as, having lighted his pipe, he
tossed the match-end into the hearth.

"I had hoped for some little excitement, myself," confessed the
inspector. "This dead-end, with not a ghost of a clue to the whereabouts
of the yellow fiend, has been getting on my nerves--"

Nayland Smith grunted sympathetically.

"Although Dr. Fu-Manchu has been in England for some months, now,"
continued Weymouth, "I have never set eyes upon him; the house we raided
in Museum Street proved to be empty; in a word, I am wasting my time.
So that I volunteered to run up to Hampstead and look into the matter
of the Gables, principally as a distraction. It's a queer business, but
more in the Psychical Research Society's line than mine, I'm afraid.
Still, if there were no Dr. Fu-Manchu it might be of interest to
you--and to you, Dr. Petrie, because it illustrates the fact, that,
given the right sort of subject, death can be brought about without any
elaborate mechanism--such as our Chinese friends employ."

"You interest me more and more," declared Smith, stretching himself in
the long, white cane rest-chair.

"Two men, both fairly sound, except that the first one had an asthmatic
heart, have died at the Gables without any one laying a little finger
upon them. Oh! there was no jugglery! They weren't poisoned, or bitten
by venomous insects, or suffocated, or anything like that. They just
died of fear--stark fear."

With my elbows resting upon the table cover, and my chin in my hands, I
was listening attentively, now, and Nayland Smith, a big cushion behind
his head, was watching the speaker with a keen and speculative look in
those steely eyes of his.

"You imply that Dr. Fu-Manchu has something to learn from the Gables?"
he jerked.

Weymouth nodded stolidly.

"I can't work up anything like amazement in these days," continued the
latter; "every other case seems stale and hackneyed alongside the case.
But I must confess that when the Gables came on the books of the Yard
the second time, I began to wonder. I thought there might be some
tangible clue, some link connecting the two victims; perhaps some
evidence of robbery or of revenge--of some sort of motive. In short, I
hoped to find evidence of human agency at work, but, as before, I was
disappointed."

"It's a legitimate case