“How do you arrive at that deduction, Nick?”

“From the tiny tinge of fresh blood about one of the pinholes on the interior of the lining,” explained Nick.  “The stain must have come from the point of the pin, and when the pin was drawn out of the box, not when it was thrust into it.  In the latter case the pin point would have been cleansed before passing through the lining, and the stain would have been on the outside rather than the inside.”

“Surely.”

“Then it at once became plain that Mary Barton, while sitting there, had thrust her hat pin through one of the previously made apertures, possibly aiming to discover in this way what the box contained, and in so doing she probably pricked the confined reptile.”

“Ah, I see,” nodded Chick.  “All this strongly indicated that something might have been confined in the casket.”

“Yes, certainly.  Not thus learning what the box contained,” continued Nick, “Mary Barton decided to open it.  The moment she raised the lid the snake, probably angered by its wound and long confinement, instantly struck at her hand, snake-fashion, and buried its fangs in her wrist.”

“Hence the tiny, red spot which you so quickly discovered.”

“Precisely.”

“Very shrewd of you, Nick.”

“Greatly frightened, the girl probably fainted, and fell to the ground,” added Nick, in conclusion of the deductions by which he had solved the remarkable mystery.  “The snake instantly scurried away through the grass, and left no trail behind him.  Before the girl could recover from her swoon, the deadly poison had done its work.  The venom of some of these India snakes is horribly rapid in its action.”

“That’s true,” cried Chick.  “I saw one at the theater that evening, the venom of which would kill a man in ten seconds.  A wee bit of a cuss at that.”

“Probably this was one of the same breed,” said Nick, grimly.  “At all events, I am sure that murder was the crime, and a snake the means.”

“And Sanetta Cervera the criminal.”

“Beyond the shadow of a doubt,” declared Nick.

“And what do you expect to learn from the Hindoo?”

“I wish to know, in corroboration of my suspicions, whether Pandu Singe has missed any of his infernal reptiles.”

“Ah, I see.”

“If he has, my theory is surely correct, and we next must fix the guilt upon the guilty,” said Nick, firmly.  “I shall arrest Cervera this very night, providing the Hindoo informs me that—­ Ah, here we are at his door.  Come into the house with me, Chick, and we’ll see what he has to say.”

They had stopped before an ordinary brick house on the East Side, and Nick quickly mounted the steps and rang the bell.  The summons brought a corpulent English woman to the door, from whom Nick learned that the Hindoo and his interpreter were still there.

“Doesn’t Pandu Singe speak English?” inquired Nick.