"You know what this is, Petrie?" he cried.

"Certainly. It was too late to employ a ligature and useless to inject
ammonia. Death was practically instantaneous. His heart . . ."

There came a loud knocking and ringing.

"Carter!" cried Smith, turning to the detective, "open that door to no
one--no one. Explain who I am--"

"But if it is the inspector?--"

"I said, open the door to no one!" snapped Smith.

"Burke, stand exactly where you are! Carter, you can speak to whoever
knocks, through the letter-box. Petrie, don't move for your life! It
may be here, in the hallway!--"



CHAPTER IX

THE CLIMBER

Our search of the house of Abel Slattin ceased only with the coming of
the dawn, and yielded nothing but disappointment. Failure followed
upon failure; for, in the gray light of the morning, our own quest
concluded, Inspector Weymouth returned to report that the girl,
Karamaneh, had thrown him off the scent.