After a moment to give me a chance, Craig himself left the car pulled up close by the side of the road and went ahead on foot.  At last he came to the cross-roads just around the bend, where in the moonlight he could read the sign:  “Williams Avenue” and “Brownlee Avenue.”  He stood there a moment, then glanced at his watch which registered both hands approaching the hour of twelve.  He gazed about at the deserted country.  Had the appointment been a hoax, after all, a scheme to get him away from the city for some purpose?

Suddenly, at his feet in the dust of the road something heavy seemed to drop.  He looked about quickly.  No one was in sight.

He reached down and picked up a little Chinese figure.  Tapping it with his knuckle, he examined it curiously.  It was hollow.

From the inside he drew out a piece of paper.  He strained his eyes in the moonlight and managed to make out: 

The Serpent is all-wise, and his fang is fatal.  You have signed the white girl’s death warrant.

Beneath this sinister warning was stamped the serpent sign of Wu Fang.

It was not a hoax, and Kennedy stood there a moment gazing about in tense anxiety.  Had that uncanny watching eye observed his every action?  Was it staring at him now in the blackness?

. . . . . . .

Meanwhile, I had made my way stealthily, peering into the bushes and careful not even to step on anything that would make a noise and was now, as I have said, crouched behind the big rock to which Craig had directed me.  I heard him go along the road and looked about cautiously, but could hear and see nothing else.

I had begun to wonder whether Kennedy might not have made a mistake when, suddenly, from behind the shadow of another rock, ahead of me, but toward Brownlee Avenue, I saw a tall, gaunt figure of a man rise in the moonlight, almost as if it had sprung from the very earth.

My heart gave a leap, as he quickly raised his right arm and hurled something as far as he could in the direction that Kennedy had taken.  If it had been a bomb, followed by an explosion, I would not have been surprised.  But no sound followed as the figure dropped back as if it had been a wraith.

I stole out from my own hiding-place in the shadow of my rock and darted quickly to the shelter of a bush, nearer the figure.

The figure was no wraith.  It turned to steal away.  I remembered Kennedy’s parting words.  If the man ever gained the darkness of a clump of woods, just beyond us, he was as good as safe.  This was the time to act.

I leaped at him and we went down, rolling over and over in the underbrush and stubble.  We fought fiercely, but I could not seem to get a glimpse of his face which was muffled.

He was powerful and stronger than I and after a tough tussle he broke loose.  But I had succeeded, nevertheless.  I had delayed him just long enough.  Kennedy heard the sound of the struggle and was now crashing through the hedge at the cross-roads in our direction.