on of an official
character. He wanted to feel that man's bones crack under his grasp. He
had the strong man's ambition to close with an opponent worthy of his
thews and sinews. Without any warning, he made for the Japanese, who
seemed to await his oncoming with singular equanimity, though otherwise
quivering with baulked hate.

But Brett had seen something that aroused a lightning-like suspicion.
Twice had the Japanese looked at a small, shining thing in his hand, as
though to make sure it was there. So the barrister was just in time to
grasp Robert's shoulder and hold him back.

"No," he cried, "you must not touch him. I command it. He cannot escape."

"Then let me have a go at him first," growled Frazer, whose face was pale
with passion.

"No, no. Leave him to me. Winter, do you hear me? Stand back, I say."

Brett's imperative tone brooked no disobedience. Thus, in a segment of a
circle, the five enclosed the one against the wall--Ooma barricaded by the
table, the others ready to defeat any stratagem he might endeavour to put
in force.

"Now listen to me, Ooma," said the barrister sternly. "You must drop that
thing you have in your right hand. You must hold both your hands high
above your head. If you move either of them again I will shoot you. If you
do not obey me before I count five I will shoot you. One! Two! Three!--"

The Japanese, gasping a horrible sort of sob, three times plunged the
instrument he held into his left arm. Then he flung it straight at Robert.
One would have thought his vengeance would be directed against Brett, whom
he must have credited by this time with his capture.

No; he singled out a Hume-Frazer for his last attack. The instrument
struck a button on Robert's coat and fell to the floor, where it lay
twisted out of shape by the force of the impact.

It was a hypodermic syringe.

Again Ooma uttered that weird cry.

"This is the end," he said. "You have not beaten me. It is Fate."

He folded his arms and looked at them. A change came over his face. He was
no longer a tiger at bay, but a human being, calm, dignified, almost
impressive.

"I arrest you--" began Winter.

"You fool!" laughed the Japanese, with a quiet contempt in his tone; "I
shall be dead in twenty minutes. That syringe contained snake poison, the
undiluted venom of the karait. Put away your pistols. They are not
wanted."

Quite nonchalantly he leaned back against the bookcase that lined the
wall. He turned hi