“Hold the lantern a moment,” he said.
In the yellow light he glanced at the scrap of paper.
“As I expected—a leaf of Burke’s notebook; it worked by scent.” He turned to me with an odd expression in his gray eyes. “I wonder what piece of my personal property Fu-Manchu has pilfered,” he said, “in order to enable it to sleuth me?”
He met the gaze of the man holding the lantern.
“Perhaps you had better return to the house,” he said, looking him squarely in the eyes.
The other’s face blanched.
“You don’t mean, sir—you don’t mean...”
“Brace up!” said Smith, laying his hand upon his shoulder. “Remember—he chose to play with fire!”
One wild look the man cast from Smith to me, then went off, staggering, toward the farm.
“Smith,” I began...