The snake was placed in a box. Uncle Brian poured out some milk from a bottle, placed the saucer beside the reptile, and closed the lid.
"Now we can get to work," he said briskly.
Peter glanced around him. There was little or nothing to suggest anything mysterious about the place. On one side of the building was a long bench, absolutely littered with tools, scraps of metal, old bottles, and other debris, together with a lathe and an engineer's vice. Underneath the bench was a similar assortment of rubbish.
"Bit of a lash up, eh?" commented Uncle Brian. "'Fraid I am a bit untidy, but I can generally clear a space when I want to get to work. Bear a hand and shift some of this stuff."
He pointed to a confused heap at one end of the bench. When the pile of stuff was removed there stood revealed a small contraption that looked as if it were a box camera with an acetylene motor-lamp attached.
"There's my patent searchlight," he announced, with boyish enthusiasm. "Don Ramon Diaz and all his precious pals can fool about with that to their hearts' content. They won't be a penny the wiser. Look at it. See if you can make anything of it."
Peter did as he was requested.
"Can't make head or tail of it, Uncle," he confessed frankly.
Uncle Brian proceeded to connect up a couple of terminals with a wall switch.
"Now then," he resumed, "out with the light." The next instant the place was in total darkness, the painted glass windows effectually shutting out the brilliant moonlight.