Criminals -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Fu Manchu, Doctor (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
In his voice was the imperative note I knew so well; in his eyes was
the light which told of an urgent need for action--a portentous truth
suddenly grasped.
"One in half-an-hour--the last."
"We must catch it."
No further word of explanation he vouchsafed, but darted off to dress;
for he had spent the afternoon pacing the room in his dressing-gown and
smoking without intermission.
Out and to the corner we hurried, and leaped into the first taxi upon
the rank. Smith enjoined the man to hasten, and we were off--all in
that whirl of feverish activity which characterized my friend's
movements in times of important action.
He sat glancing impatiently from the window and twitching at the lobe
of his ear.
"I know you will forgive me, old man," he said, "but there is a little
problem which I am trying to work out in my mind. Did you bring the
things I mentioned?"
"Yes."
Conversation lapsed, until, just as the cab turned into the station,
Smith said: "Should you consider Lord Southery to have been the first
constructive engineer of his time, Petrie?"
"Undoubtedly," I replied.
"Greater than Von Homber, of Berlin?"
"Possibly not. But Von Homber has been dead for three years."
"Three years, is it?"
"Roughly."
"Ah!"
We reached the station in time to secure a non-corridor compartment to
ourselves, and to allow Smith leisure carefully to inspect the
occupants of all the others, from the engine to the guard's van. He
was muffled up to the eyes, and he warned me to keep out of sight in
the corner of the compartment. In fact, his behavior had me bursting
with curiosity. The train having started:
"Don't imagine, Petrie," said Smith "that I am trying to lead you
blindfolded in order later to dazzle you with my perspicacity. I am
simply afraid that this may be a wild-goose chase. The idea upon which
I am acting does not seem to have struck you. I wish it had. The fact
would argue in favor of its being sound."
"At present I am hopelessly mystified."
"Well, then, I will not bias you towards my view. But just study the
situation, and see if you can arrive at the reason for this sudden
journey. I shall be distinctly encouraged if you succeed."
But I did not succeed, and since Smith obviously was unwilling to
enlighten me, I pressed him no more. The train stopped at Rugby, where
he was engaged with the stationmaster in making some mysterious
arrangements. At L--, however, their object became plain, for a
high-power car was awaiting us, and into this we hurried and ere the
greater number of passengers had reached the platform were being driven
off at headlong speed along the moon-bathed roads.
Twenty minutes' rapid traveling, and a white mansion leaped into the
line of sight, standing out vividly against its woody backing.
"Stradwick Hall," said Smith. "The home of Lord Southery. We are
first--but Dr. Fu-Manchu was on the train."
Then the truth dawned upon the gloom of my perplexity.
CHAPTER XXIII
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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