Whatever it was, Patsy determined not to wait for it. Letting fly with his right fist--and missing, as the Chinaman ducked, he seized him by the throat with the other hand. There was a gurgling hiss, and then the fellow went down on top of his fellow rascal. A scream--loud, long drawn out, and unearthly--came from the man with the scarred ear, who was underneath, and the awful cry was echoed by the Chinaman on top. Then both were still. Patsy Garvan stood looking at them in astonishment, when Nick Carter came down with a rush and ran to the help of his petrified assistant. “Got ’em, Patsy?” “I think so. But they seemed to give out all at once, without me touching them. That is, after I’d slung this one on top of the other.” Nick Carter did not answer, but a look of understanding came into his keen eyes, as he pulled the top Chinaman off of his comrade and laid him on his back. Then he took out his pocket flash and turned it first on one senseless figure, and then the other. Deeply embedded in the chest of the underneath man--the Chinaman with the scarred ear and the burned finger, from which the rag had been removed--were the poisoned crossed needles with which the detective had become so strangely familiar in the last two days. He hastily tore open the front of the blouse and shirt away from the chest of the other. There were the two little marks which showed that he, too, had died from the same horrible death as his companion. “It’s clear enough,” said Nick quietly. “When you flung this man on top of the other, the needles were driven into both of them. It was poetic justice. The murder of Andrew Anderton has been avenged.” “This one with the scarred ear is the fellow who actually killed Mr. Anderton, wasn’t he?” asked Patsy. “Yes, I have ample proof of that. This other man was concerned in it, too. The only thing I want now is to get the archconspirator--the man who arranged the murder--Sang Tu.” “You mean Professor Tolo, don’t you?” asked Patsy. “It may turn out to be the same thing,” returned Nick Carter. “We shall have to find that out later. Hello, Chick!” he called up the stairs. “Have you got those two fellows, all right?” “Yes,” replied Chick. “I have handcuffs on both of them. What am I to do with them now?” “I’ll go out and grab that caretaker. Then I’ll bring him in and make him telephone to the police station for a patrol wagon. I don’t know how deep he is in this thing. He can explain that to the police.” “Why don’t you telephone, yourself, chief?” asked Chick. “They’d probably pay more attention to you than to the old man.” “Yes, and they’d question me more than I care for, too,” replied Nick. “I don’t want to answer questions until I am face to face with the man who asks them. This case isn’t wound up yet, you know.” THE END. * * * * *