The Hand Of Fu-Manchu Being a New Phase in the Activities of Fu-Manchu, the Devil Doctor

re?" I cal

faint fog haze hung in the apartment, seeming to veil the light of the shaded lamp. I watched

ain, and, crossing the ro

cteristic of London in November. But nothing moved to right nor left of me. The New Louvre Hotel was in some respects yet incomplete, an

d my attention. My vigilance went unrewarded. I had closed the window to exclude the yellow mist, but subconsciously I was aware of its encircling presence, walling me in, and now I found myself in such a silence as I had

return from Cairo-from Cairo where I had left behind me many a fondly cherished hope. I addressed myself again to the task

the door, and there came a m

w the door open. Nayland Smith stood before me, muffled up in a h

y friend stepped in and

ped off the great-coat, and pulling out hi

itter cast out from the trunk, and

carelessly dropping the match-

ed no commonplace lives; Dr. Fu-Manchu has seen to that; but if I am to beli

t him wond

e no darker meaning than that which Dr. Fu-Manchu ga

h, throwing himself into a corn

o stare, unco

Si-

thers. He was not the head of that organization which dealt in wholesale murder, which aimed at upsetting the balance of the world. I even knew the name of one, a certain m

pipe grimly between his teeth, whilst I s

uch to tell me," I sa

side the settee and

lt the door," j

crossed the room and shot the li

led to my sudden recall (and incidentally yours) from Egypt to London and which only reached me as I was on the point of embarking at Suez for Rangoon, was p

ite

e here and engaged this suite whilst I reported to the chief. A stranger business is before us, Petri

er

, but not by direct inquiry, that he occupies a suite

ce, whatever its nature, must

o report to th

made no

ntative. He's been playing at Robinson Crusoe in a private suite here fo

lainly visible, for Smith suddenly bu

t was a strange b

he m

left him; he became s

some time ago, and set out upon a private expedition to the Mongolian frontier with the avowed intention of visiting some place in the Gobi Desert. From the time that he actually crossed the frontier he disappeared for nearly six months, to reappear again suddenly and dramatically in London. He b

nd sat in an attitude o

nything, Petri

inquired, listening int

ed his hea

ted door. A faint mist still hung in the room, and once I thought I detected a slight sound from the bedroom beyond, which was in dar

said, resuming for some reason, in a hushed voice. "W

mith smil

l of Lamaism." He stood up abruptly, glancing at a scrap of paper which he took from his pocket-"Suite Number 14a," he said. "Co