IN THE FOG

“But, Smith,” I began, as my friend hurried me along the corridor, “you are not going to leave the box unguarded?”

Nayland Smith tugged at my arm, and, glancing at him, I saw him frowningly shake his head.  Utterly mystified, I nevertheless understood that for some reason he desired me to preserve silence for the present.  Accordingly I said no more until the lift brought us down into the lobby and we had passed out from the New Louvre Hotel, crossed the busy thoroughfare and entered the buffet of an establishment not far distant.  My friend having ordered cocktails—­

“And now perhaps you will explain to me the reason for your mysterious behavior?” said I.

Smith, placing my glass before me, glanced about him to right and left, and having satisfied himself that his words could not be overheard—­

“Petrie,” he whispered, “I believe we are spied upon at the New Louvre.”

“What!”

“There are spies of the Si-Fan—­of Fu-Manchu—­amongst the hotel servants!  We have good reason to believe that Dr. Fu-Manchu at one time was actually in the building, and we have been compelled to draw attention to the state of the electric fitting in our apartments, which enables any one in the corridor above to spy upon us.”

“Then why do you stay?”

“For a very good reason, Petrie, and the same that prompts me to retain the Tulun-Nur box in my own possession rather than to deposit it in the strong-room of my bank.”

“I begin to understand.”

“I trust you do, Petrie; it is fairly obvious.  Probably the plan is a perilous one, but I hope, by laying myself open to attack, to apprehend the enemy—­perhaps to make an important capture.”

Setting down my glass, I stared in silence at Smith.

“I will anticipate your remark,” he said, smiling dryly.  “I am aware that I am not entitled to expose you to these dangers.  It is my duty and I must perform it as best I can; you, as a volunteer, are perfectly entitled to withdraw.”

As I continued silently to stare at him, his expression changed; the gray eyes grew less steely, and presently, clapping his hand upon my shoulder in his impulsive way—­

“Petrie!” he cried, “you know I had no intention of hurting your feelings, but in the circumstances it was impossible for me to say less.”

“You have said enough, Smith,” I replied shortly.  “I beg of you to say no more.”

He gripped my shoulder hard, then plunged his hand into his pocket and pulled out the blackened pipe.

“We see it through together, then, though God knows whither it will lead us.”

“In the first place,” I interrupted, “since you have left the chest unguarded——­”

“I locked the door.”

“What is a mere lock where Fu-Manchu is concerned?”

Nayland Smith laughed almost gaily.

“Really, Petrie,” he cried, “sometimes I cannot believe that you mean me to take you seriously.  Inspector Weymouth has engaged the room immediately facing our door, and no one can enter or leave the suite unseen by him.”