did you say, Max?" asked Carlyle curiously.

"I wrote that I was anxious to discuss an Indo-Scythian inscription
with him, and sent my car in the hope that he would be able to oblige
me."

"But is he interested in Indo-Scythian inscriptions?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," admitted Carrados, and Mr. Carlyle was
throwing up his hands in despair when the sound of a motor-car wheels
softly kissing the gravel surface of the drive outside brought him to
his feet.

"By Gad, you are right, Max!" he exclaimed, peeping through the
curtains. "There is a man inside."

"Mr. Drishna," announced Parkinson a minute later.

The visitor came into the room with leisurely self-possession that
might have been real or a desperate assumption. He was a slightly
built young man of about twenty-five, with black hair and eyes, a
small, carefully trained moustache, and a dark olive skin. His
physiognomy was not displeasing, but his expression had a harsh and
supercilious tinge. In attire he erred towards the immaculately
spruce.

"Mr. Carrados?" he said inquiringly.

Carrados, who had risen, bowed slightly without offering his hand.

"This gentleman," he said, indicating his friend, "is Mr. Carlyle, the
celebrated private detective."

The Indian shot a very sharp glance at the object of this description.
Then he sat down.

"You wrote me a letter, Mr. Carrados," he remarked, in English that
scarcely betrayed any foreign origin, "a rather curious letter, I may
say. You asked me about an ancient inscription. I know nothing of
antiquities; but I thought, as you had sent, that it would be more
courteous if I came and explained this to you."

"That was the object of my letter," replied Carrados.

"You wished to see me?" said Drishna, unable to stand the ordeal of
the silence that Carrados imposed after his remark.

"When you left Miss Chubb's house you left a ruler behind." One lay on
the desk by Carrados and he took it up as he spoke.

"I don't understand what you are talking about," said Drishna
guardedly. "You are making some mistake."

"The ruler was marked at four and seven-eighths inches--the measure of
the glass of the signal lamp outside."

The unfortunate young man was unable to repress a start. His face lost
its healthy tone. Then, with a sudden impulse, he made a step forward
and snatched the object from Carrados's hand.

"If it is mine I have a right to it," he exclaimed, snapping the ruler
in two and throwing it o