so that, within a few seconds of its first
appearance, we found ourselves bathed in the beam of its headlights.

Smith bounded out into the road, and stood, a weird silhouette, with
upraised arms, fully in its course!

The brakes were applied hurriedly. It was a big limousine, and its
driver swerved perilously in avoiding Smith and nearly ran into me.
But, the breathless moment past, the car was pulled up, head on to the
railings; and a man in evening clothes was demanding excitedly what
had happened. Smith, a hatless, dishevelled figure, stepped up to the
door.

"My name is Nayland Smith," he said rapidly--"Burmese Commissioner."
He snatched a letter from his pocket and thrust it into the hands of
the bewildered man. "Read that. It is signed by another
Commissioner--the Commissioner of Police."

With amazement written all over him, the other obeyed.

"You see," continued my friend tersely, "it is _carte blanche_. I wish
to commandeer your car, sir, on a matter of life and death!"

The other returned the letter.

"Allow me to offer it!" he said, descending. "My man will take your
orders. I can finish my journey by cab. I am--"

But Smith did not wait to learn whom he might be.

"Quick!" he cried to the stupefied chauffeur. "You passed a car a
minute ago--yonder. Can you overtake it?"

"I can try, sir, if I don't lose her track."

Smith leapt in, pulling me after him.

"Do it!" he snapped. "There are no speed limits for me. Thanks! Good
night, sir!"

We were off! The car swung around and the chase commenced.

One last glimpse I had of the man we had dispossessed, standing alone
by the roadside, and at ever-increasing speed, we leapt away in the
track of Eltham's captors.

Smith was too highly excited for ordinary conversation, but he threw
out short, staccato remarks.

"I have followed Fu-Manchu from Hong-Kong," he jerked. "Lost him at
Suez. He got here a boat ahead of me. Eltham has been corresponding
with some mandarin up-country. Knew that. Came straight to you. Only
got in this evening. He--Fu-Manchu--has been sent here to get Eltham.
My God! and he has him! He will question him! The interior of China--a
seething pot, Petrie! They had to stop the leakage of information.
_He_ is here for that."

The car pulled up with a jerk that pitched me out of my seat, and the
chauffeur leapt to the road and ran ahead. Smith was out in a trice,
as the man, who had run up to a constable, came racing back.

"