Keshub was not as tall as Ched Ramar. But he was a big fellow, and he had all the dignity of the Oriental, even though he was not of as high caste as Ched Ramar was supposed to be. He strode into the room and looked at the big idol. Then he made a deep salaam to the image, joining the tips of the fingers of his two hands over and in front of his bowed head as he bent low, and dropping them to his sides as he straightened up. “Teaching old Brassy to swim, I guess,” grinned Patsy. Nick gave him a hard dig in the side, to quiet him, although he found it hard to repress a smile at this irreverent designation of the god as “old Brassy.” Keshub turned from the idol and strode over to Clarice. Nick saw then--as he cautiously peeped around the idol, and partly concealed by draperies--that the Indian had taken from his clothing a package of papers, held together by a rubber band. “Take!” he said curtly. The girl sat perfectly quiet, and appeared not to hear the word. He repeated it, at the same time lifting the girl’s right hand and placing the packet in her fingers. The touch of the packet seemed to revive some sleeping memory in her being. She clutched it tightly and arose from her seat. “Obey! Forget!” she murmured. “I will return in a short time and take you out to the car,” said Keshub. “Stay here.” Whether the girl heard and understood this Nick Carter could not tell. All he knew was that she stood perfectly still, her eyes staring into vacancy, but always turned toward the idol, while Keshub disappeared between the curtains to the elevator. “Now, Patsy! Go to that elevator and see if you can fasten it so that no one can get out of it. There is a door with gilt railings. I think it can be bolted from this side. I noticed it when I was in this place before.” Patsy ran to obey his chief, and a low chuckle told that he had found the bolt referred to. Then there was a click as the bolt slipped into the socket, and Patsy came back. By this time Nick Carter had begun something that had been in his mind while Keshub talked to the girl. He went to her, and staring straight at her eyes, whispered: “Obey! The packet!” Mechanically she held out the packet and he took it from her unresisting fingers. Then, as if another power were fighting against the influence which Nick Carter had brought to bear, she held out her hand as if to get the packet back. He waved his hands before her face and whispered again, in the same sharp, staccato tones he had used before: “Go to the ladder and listen again to what will be said to you from the mouth of Buddha.” She moved across the floor, and reaching the ladder, went up in the mechanical way that always distinguished her in that particular action. When she was in her usual place there, with one hand on the shoulder of the idol, Nick slipped behind, and, going up the hidden ladder, took his place in the hollow, where he could lean forward into the head.