its
place earlier in the day; even at that distance I recognized Smith's
neat, illegible writing.

Samarkan quickly scanned the message scribbled upon the white page;
then, exhibiting an agility uncommon in a man of his bulk, he threw
open the shutters again, having first replaced his lamp in his pocket,
climbed out into the little front garden, reclosed the window, and
disappeared!

A moment I stood, lost to my surroundings, plunged in a sea of
wonderment concerning the damnable organization which, its tentacles
extending I knew not whither, since new and unexpected limbs were ever
coming to light, sought no less a goal than Yellow dominion of the
world! I reflected how one man--Nayland Smith--alone stood between
this powerful group and the realization of their project ... when I
was aroused by a hand grasping my arm in the darkness!

I uttered a short cry, of which I was instantly ashamed, for Nayland
Smith's voice came:--

"I startled you, eh, Petrie?"

"Smith," I said, "how long have you been standing there?"

"I only returned in time to see our Fenimore Cooper friend retreating
through the window," he replied; "but no doubt you had a good look at
him?"

"I had!" I answered eagerly. "It was Samarkan!"

"I thought so! I have suspected as much for a long time."

"Was this the object of our visit here?"

"It was one of the objects," admitted Nayland Smith evasively.

From some place not far distant came the sound of a restarted engine.

"The other," he added, "was this: to enable M. Samarkan to read the
note which I had pinned upon the door!"

CHAPTER XXI

THE SECOND MESSAGE

"Here you are, Petrie," said Nayland Smith--and he tossed across the
table the folded copy of a morning paper. "This may assist you in your
study of the first Zagazig message."

I set down my cup and turned my attention to the "Personal" column on
the front page of the journal. A paragraph appeared therein conceived
as follows:--

ZAGAZIG-_Z_-a-g-_a_;-z:-I:-_g_;z-a,g;-
A-,_z_;_i_:_G_,-z:_a_;_g_-A,z-_i_;-gz
_A_;_g_aZ-_i_;_g_-:a z i g

I stared across at my friend in extreme bewilderment.

"But, Smith!" I cried, "these messages are utterly meaningless!"

"Not at all," he rapped back. "Scotland Yard thought they were
meaningless at first, and I must admit that they suggested nothing to
me for a long time; but the dead dacoit was the clue to the first,
Petrie, and the note pinned upon the door of the house near the