s in the form known as the
Monkey, or the God of the Gongs, which is powerful in many parts of the
two American continents, especially among half-breeds, many of whom
look exactly like white men. It differs from most other forms of
devil-worship and human sacrifice in the fact that the blood is not shed
formally on the altar, but by a sort of assassination among the crowd.
The gongs beat with a deafening din as the doors of the shrine open and
the monkey-god is revealed; almost the whole congregation rivet ecstatic
eyes on him. But after--'"

The door of the room was flung open, and the fashionable negro stood
framed in it, his eyeballs rolling, his silk hat still insolently tilted
on his head. "Huh!" he cried, showing his apish teeth. "What this? Huh!
Huh! You steal a coloured gentleman's prize--prize his already--yo'
think yo' jes' save that white 'Talian trash--"

"The matter is only deferred," said the nobleman quietly. "I will be
with you to explain in a minute or two."

"Who you to--" shouted Nigger Ned, beginning to storm.

"My name is Pooley," replied the other, with a creditable coolness.
"I am the organizing secretary, and I advise you just now to leave the
room."

"Who this fellow?" demanded the dark champion, pointing to the priest
disdainfully.

"My name is Brown," was the reply. "And I advise you just now to leave
the country."

The prize-fighter stood glaring for a few seconds, and then, rather to
the surprise of Flambeau and the others, strode out, sending the door to
with a crash behind him.

"Well," asked Father Brown rubbing his dusty hair up, "what do you think
of Leonardo da Vinci? A beautiful Italian head."

"Look here," said Lord Pooley, "I've taken a considerable
responsibility, on your bare word. I think you ought to tell me more
about this."

"You are quite right, my lord," answered Brown. "And it won't take long
to tell." He put the little leather book in his overcoat pocket. "I
think we know all that this can tell us, but you shall look at it to see
if I'm right. That negro who has just swaggered out is one of the most
dangerous men on earth, for he has the brains of a European, with the
instincts of a cannibal. He has turned what was clean, common-sense
butchery among his fellow-barbarians into a very modern and scientific
secret society of assassins. He doesn't know I know it, nor, for the
matter of that, that I can't prove it."

There was a silence, and the little man went o