Nayland Smith, tugging reflectively at the lobe of his left ear, stood looking at the expert. Then-- "I do not care to attempt it at present," he said. Meyerstein and his clerk stared at the speaker in surprise. "But you would be mad," cried the former, "if you accepted an offer for the box, whilst ignorant of the nature of its contents." "But I have invited no offer," said Smith. "I do not propose to sell." Meyerstein adjusted his pince-nez again. "I am a business man," he said, "and I will make a business proposal: A hundred guineas for the box, cash down, and our commission to be ten per cent on the proceeds of the contents. You must remember," raising a fat forefinger to check Smith, who was about to interrupt him, "that it may be necessary to force the box in order to open it, thereby decreasing its market value and making it a bad bargain at a hundred guineas." Nayland Smith met my gaze across the room; again a slight smile crossed the lean, tanned face. "I can only reply, Mr. Meyerstein," he said, "in this way: if I desire to place the box on the market, you shall have first refusal, and the same applies to the contents, if any. For the moment if you will send me a note of your fee, I shall be obliged." He raised his hand with a conclusive gesture. "I am not prepared to discuss the question of sale any further at present, Mr. Meyerstein." At that the dealer bowed, took up his hat from the table, and prepared to depart. Lewison opened the door and stood aside. "Good morning, gentlemen," said Meyerstein. As Lewison was about to follow him-- "Since you do not intend to open the box," he said, turning, his hand upon the door knob, "have you any idea of its contents?" "None," replied Smith; "but with my present inadequate knowledge of its history, I do not care to open it." Lewison smiled skeptically. "Probably you know best," he said, bowed to us both, and retired. When the door was closed-- "You see, Petrie," said Smith, beginning to stuff tobacco into his briar, "if we are ever short of funds, here's something"--pointing to the Tûlun-Nûr box upon the table--"which would retrieve our fallen fortunes." He uttered one of his rare, boyish laughs, and began to pace the carpet again, his gaze always set upon our strange treasure. What did it contain? The manner in which it had come into our possession suggested that it might contain something of the utmost value to the Yellow group. For we knew the house of John Ki to be, if not the head-quarters, certainly a meeting-place of the mysterious organization the Si-Fan; we knew that Dr. Fu-Manchu used the place--Dr. Fu-Manchu, the uncanny being whose existence seemingly proved him immune from natural laws, a deathless incarnation of evil. My gaze set upon the box, I wondered anew what strange, dark secrets it held; I wondered how many murders and crimes greater than murder blackened its history.