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to the Egyptian sorcerer.
    “You owe your life to her,” Gordon rapped, lighting another match. “We were standing in the shadows in front of the warehouse, waiting for the hour to strike, and of course ignorant as to what was going on in the house, when a girl appeared at one of the barred windows and begged us for God’s sake to do something, that a man was being murdered. So we broke in at once. However, she was not to be seen when we entered.”
    “She returned to the room, no doubt,” I muttered, “and was forced to accompany the Master. God grant he knows nothing of her trickery.”
    “I do not know,” said Gordon, dropping the charred match stem, “whether she guessed at our true identity or whether she just made the appeal in desperation.
    “However, the main point is this: evidence points to the fact that, on hearing the whistle, Leary and Murken invaded Yun Shatu’s from the front at the same instant my three men and I made our attack on the warehouse front. As it took us some seconds to batter down the door, it is logical to suppose that they found the secret door and entered the tunnel before we affected an entrance into the warehouse.
    “The Master, knowing our plans beforehand, and being aware that an invasion would be made through the tunnel and having long ago made preparations for such an exigency —”
    An involuntary shudder shook me.
    “— the Master worked the lever that opened the chest — the screams you heard as you lay upon the altar were the death shrieks of Leary and Murken. Then, leaving the Chinaman behind to finish you, the Master and the rest descended into the tunnel — incredible as it seems — and threading their way unharmed among the serpents, entered Yun Shatu’s house and escaped therefrom as I have said.”
    “That seems impossible. Why should not the snakes turn on them?”
    Gordon finally ignited his cigarette and puffed a few seconds before replying.
    “The reptiles might still have been giving their full and hideous attention to the dying men, or else — I have on previous occasions been confronted with indisputable proof of the Master’s dominance over beasts and reptiles of even the lowest or most dangerous orders. How he and his slaves passed unhurt among those scaly fiends must remain, at present, one of the many unsolved mysteries pertaining to that strange man.”
    I stirred restlessly in my chair. This brought up a point for the purpose of clearing up which I had come to Gordon’s neat but bizarre apartments.
    “You have not yet told me,” I said abruptly, “who this man is and what is his mission.”
    “As to who he is, I can only say that he is known as you name him — the Master. I have never seen him unmasked, nor do I know his real name nor his nationality.”
    “I can enlighten you to an extent there,” I broke in. “I have seen him unmasked and have heard the name his slaves call him.”
    Gordon’s eyes blazed and he leaned forward.
    “His name,” I continued, “is Kathulos and he claims to be an Egyptian.”
    “Kathulos!” Gordon repeated. “You say he claims to be an Egyptian — have you any reason for doubting his claim of that nationality?”
    “He may be of Egypt,” I answered slowly, “but he is different, somehow, from any human I ever saw or hope to see. Great age might account for some of his peculiarities, but there are certain lineal differences that my anthropological studies tell me have been present since birth — features which would be abnormal to any other man but which are perfectly normal in Kathulos. That sounds paradoxical, I admit, but to appreciate fully the horrid inhumanness of the man, you would have to see him yourself.”
    Gordon sat at attention while I swiftly sketched the appearance of the Egyptian as I remembered him — and that appearance was indelibly etched on my brain forever.
    As I finished he nodded.
    “As I have said, I never saw Kathulos except when disguised as a beggar, a leper or