or the marks."

"Have you thought of Fu-Manchu's marmoset?" asked Smith.

"The monkey!" I cried.

"They were the footprints of a small ape," my friend continued. "For a
moment I was deceived as you were, and believed them to be the tracks
of a large bird; but I have seen the footprints of apes before now, and
a marmoset, though an American variety, I believe, is not unlike some
of the apes of Burma."

"I am still in the dark," I said.

"It is pure hypothesis," continued Smith, "but here is the theory--in
lieu of a better one it covers the facts. The marmoset--and it is
contrary from the character of Fu-Manchu to keep any creature for mere
amusement--is trained to perform certain duties.

"You observed the waterspout running up beside the window; you observed
the iron bar intended to prevent a window-cleaner from falling out?
For an ape the climb from the court below to the sill above was a
simple one. He carried a cord, probably attached to his body. He
climbed on to the sill, over the bar, and climbed down again. By means
of this cord a rope was pulled up over the bar, by means of the rope
one of those ladders of silk and bamboo. One of the Doctor's servants
ascended--probably to ascertain if the hashish had acted successfully.
That was the yellow dream-face which West saw bending over him. Then
followed the Doctor, and to his giant will the drugged brain of West
was a pliant instrument which he bent to his own ends. The court would
be deserted at that hour of the night, and, in any event, directly
after the ascent the ladder probably was pulled up, only to be lowered
again when West had revealed the secret of his own safe and Fu-Manchu
had secured the plans. The reclosing of the safe and the removing of
the hashish tabloids, leaving no clew beyond the delirious ravings of a
drug slave--for so anyone unacquainted with the East must have
construed West's story--is particularly characteristic. His own
tabloids were returned, of course. The sparing of his life alone is a
refinement of art which points to a past master."

"Karamaneh was the decoy again?" I said shortly.

"Certainly. Hers was the task to ascertain West's habits and to
substitute the tabloids. She it was who waited in the luxurious
car--infinitely less likely to attract attention at that hour in that
place than a modest taxi--and received the stolen plans. She did her
work well.

"Poor Karamaneh; she had no alternative! I said I wou