But Harley was too late. Turning, the strange and formidable-looking Oriental ran like the wind! Ere hand could be raised to stay him he was through the doorway!
“That settles it,” said Harley grimly, as once more I found myself in a cab beside him. “I was right; but he'll forestall us!”
“Who will forestall us?” I asked in bewilderment.
“The biggest villain in Europe, Asia, or Africa!” cried my companion. “I have wasted precious time to-day. I might have known.” He drummed irritably upon his knees. “The place we have just left is a sort of club, you understand, Knox, and Hakim is the proprietor or host as well as being an old gentleman of importance and authority in the Moslem world. I told him of my suspicions—which step I should have taken earlier—and they were instantly confirmed. My man was there—recognized me—and bolted! He'll forestall us.”
“But my dear fellow,” I said patiently—“who is this man, and what has he to do with the Deepbrow case?”
“He is the blackest scoundrel breathing!” answered Harley bitterly. “As to what he has to do with the case—why did he bolt? At any rate, I know where to find him now—and we may not be too late after all.”
“But who and what is this man?”
“He is Ali of Cairo! As to what he is—you will soon learn.”