Clarice’s right hand passed over her eyes, and she stared at the idol curiously. Then she looked around, and Nick Carter saw that her gaze was normal. She seemed to be quite her usual self. He stepped forward and spoke to her. “Taking a close view of that statue, Miss Bentham?” “Yes, Doctor Hodgson! It is a wonderful piece of work, isn’t it? And no one can tell how old it is. That sapphire in its forehead attracted me, and I felt as if I must look at it from the ladder. You have to allow for feminine curiosity, you know,” she laughed. “Masculine curiosity would impel me to go up there,” returned Nick, with a smile. “Indeed, it was curiosity of that kind that brought me into this room just this moment. I found the elevator, and I was bold enough to make use of it. I am glad I was, for I should not like to have missed this room. Ched Ramar has a wonderful house.” Nick made this remark about only just having come up because he did not know who might be listening. If a man could get inside that statue and pretend the statue itself was speaking, it was quite possible that he was now hiding somewhere else within hearing. The girl came down the steps, and Carter had placed his foot on the bottom one, intending to go up, to look into the cavernous depths of the eye sockets himself, when the curtains in front of the elevator parted, and Ched Ramar came into the room. He brought with him Matthew Bentham and Mrs. Morrison. The latter ran forward as she saw Clarice. Then she stopped abruptly, as her gaze fell upon the immense brass statue. “Mercy! What an awful-looking thing! It’s an idol, isn’t it? I was wondering where you’d gone, Clarice. So was your father. How did you find your way up here alone?” “She did not come alone,” broke in Ched Ramar, smiling gravely. “I led her up here. Then I left her for a moment to bring you and Mr. Bentham. I was going to ask Doctor Hodgson, too, but he anticipated me, I see,” he added, with a bow to Nick Carter. “I have just come up,” responded Nick. “This Buddha is worth seeing, and I’m glad I found my way here.” “Yes,” was Ched Ramar’s reply. “This is an extremely ancient image of the god. It was captured during a Tartar raid many centuries ago. It is reputed to possess marvelous occult powers. I would not dare to deny that that is untrue. The sapphire in its forehead is, I believe, one of the finest specimens in existence.” “Aren’t you afraid the sapphire may be stolen?” asked Mrs. Morrison, fascinated by the blazing beauty of the jewel. “I should think a thief would risk a great deal to get it.” Ched Ramar smiled significantly.