that when the
watcher lay down, the stuff touched his neck or throat and made that the
point of attack for the snake, whose fang makes a small round spot not
bigger than the end of a knitting needle, which is easily passed over by
those not used to looking for such a thing. There was such a spot on
Tolliver's throat; such another at the base of Murple's skull, and there
is a third in poor Logan's left temple. No, no more, please; this is
quite enough. Success to Black Riot and the Derby! The riddle is solved,
Sir Henry. Good-night!"

CHAPTER X

THE RIDDLE OF THE SIVA STONES

Cleek threw aside his newspaper as the telephone jingled, and walking to
the instrument, unhooked the receiver.

"Hallo!" he said; then, a second later, "Yes. This is Captain Burbage
speaking," he added, and stood silent, waiting. Not for long, however.
Almost instantly the connecting line hummed with the sound of some one
at the other end whistling the opening bars of "God Save the King," and
that settled it.

"You, is it, Mr. Narkom?" Cleek said, as the anthem broke off at an
agreed point, which point, by the way, was altered every twenty-four
hours. "No, nothing in particular. I was only reading the account of
Black Riot's Derby. Ripping, wasn't it? Half a yard ahead of the nearest
competitor, and Minnow nowhere. What? Yes, certainly, if you want me. A
great hurry, eh? Yes, start this minute if that will do. What's that?
Yes; I know the place well. All right. I'll be there almost as soon as
you are. Good-bye," and he switched off the line instantly.

Five minutes later, accompanied by Dollops bearing the inevitable brown
leather kit-bag, in case a change of attire should be found necessary,
he emerged from the house in Clarges Street, walked down Piccadilly as
far as Duke Street, turned from that into Jermyn Street, and strolled
leisurely along in the direction of the Geological Museum, keeping a
sharp look-out, however, for the red limousine.

Of a sudden it came pelting round the corner of Regent Street, whizzed
along until Lennard, the chauffeur, caught sight of the well-known
figure, then swung to the kerb close to the corner of York Street and
came to an abrupt halt. In another moment Cleek had taken the brown
kit-bag from Dollops, stepped with it into the vehicle, and was by
Narkom's side.

"Well," he said, gripping the superintendent's welcoming hand and
settling himself comfortably as the motor swung out into the roadwa