“This other one, in the head of the beast, has a bullet hole in his forehead,” announced Chick.
“He was the one who worked the horns and caught the victims in the poisoned knives. What an unmitigated set of ruffians they were. They were under the domination of Calaman, of course. But, if they had not been evilly inclined to begin with, he would have known that they would not serve him in this way.”
“Calaman knew his men. You can bet on that,” remarked Patsy, with conviction.
Nick Carter did not reply. He was examining the mechanism of the horns.
He found that they were hollow, and that they were jointed, like those of a lobster, to give free play to an inward thrust.
“We’ll have to get this fellow out before we can investigate properly,” observed Nick. “Lend me a hand, Patsy!”
Between them, they dragged out by the heels the man who had worked the head of the Scarab. His arms had been fitted into the hollow horns, and in each hand was a long, curving, narrow-bladed knife, with a very sharp point.
These knives formed the points of the horns, and were charged with a deadly poison.
The poison was concealed in the handles of the knives, the blades of which were hollow, so that the deadly stuff would run through and empty into a wound made by the weapon.
The knives were gilded to look like part of the Scarab’s claws, the whole work being completed with the skill that marked everything done under the guidance of Calaman and his colleagues.