do it almost literally."

"Is that all right?" asked Drishna, passing across the letter he had
written.

Carrados smiled at this tribute to his perception.

"Quite excellent," he replied courteously. "There is a train at
nine-forty. Will that suit you?"

Drishna nodded and stood up. Mr. Carlyle had a very uneasy feeling
that he ought to do something but could not suggest to himself what.

The next moment he heard his friend heartily thanking the visitor for
the assistance he had been in the matter of the Indo-Scythian
inscription, as they walked across the hall together. Then a door
closed.

"I believe that there is something positively uncanny about Max at
times," murmured the perturbed gentleman to himself.




THE TRAGEDY AT BROOKBEND COTTAGE


"Max," said Mr. Carlyle, when Parkinson had closed the door behind
him, "this is Lieutenant Hollyer, whom you consented to see."