“Dear me, no!” exclaimed the landlady, with a mute yet visible laugh—­visible in that her convolutions of flesh became observably agitated.  “Not the first word, sir.  He talks only a blooming jargon fit for snakes and spiders and that like.”

Nick laughed agreeably, having a request on his tongue’s end.

“He has moved his beastly den o’ reptiles into my cellar to stay till next season, sir, a ’orror I’d not stand for a minute, so I wouldn’t, only he pays me very ’andsome for the same.”

“Then he intends remaining here all summer, does he?”

“He do,” replied the woman, with startling terseness after the foregoing.

“I wish to see him briefly on business,” said Nick.  “Go and ask him if he will receive us.”

The landlady complied, returning presently and inviting the two detectives into the house.  She led the way to a rear room off the hall, at the door of which stood a swarthy foreigner, who bowed and smiled as the callers approached.

“’E’s the hinterpreter,” vouchsafed the landlady, in a wheezy whisper.

Nick nodded understandingly.

Reading by the light of a lamp on a table in the room sat the Hindoo snake charmer himself, clad in a rich, loose robe of Oriental fashion.  He arose with much deliberation and dignity when the detectives entered, and gravely bowed in greeting, while his interpreter hastened to place chairs for the visitors.

Through the interpreter Nick quickly explained his business, and saw a look of surprise appear on the face of Pandu Singe when inquiries were made about the loss of a snake.

It took Nick but a short time to learn what he desired.  Precisely as he expected, the Hindoo had missed one of his snakes about ten days before, one of the most venomous and dangerous of the lot.

Hearing no reports or complaints about the missing reptile, however, Pandu Singe had come to the conclusion that the snake had died in the den and then been devoured by one of his companions in captivity.  So the Hindoo had let the matter drop, and had said nothing about it.

Nick did not disclose the true occasion for his inquiries, but invented a satisfactory explanation, and at the end of a quarter of an hour the two detectives departed and entered their waiting carriage.

“Rather a dignified chap, after all, that Pandu Singe,” laughed Chick, as they settled themselves on the cushions.

“True,” admitted Nick, thoughtfully.  “Do you think, Chick, that we could make up to pass for those two swarthy Orientals?”

“Could we!” exclaimed Chick, promptly.  “Well, Nick, I should say that we could.”

“I think so, too.”

“You could do the snake charmer, all right, and easily gabble a lingo that would pass for his.”

“Well, rather,” laughed Nick.

“And if I was wise to the game you wished to play I easily could act as the interpreter, and run the conversation correctly on my own hook.”