"She must have worked adroitly to have accomplished what she did."

"It may not have been so very difficult," replied Nick. "She was on the stage each night, and also that infernal snake den. She quietly learned which of the venomous reptiles would best serve her deadly purpose, and then found an opportunity and a way by which to secretly steal it."

"A hazardous job at that," muttered Chick.

"The jealousy of such a woman fears nothing," Nick rejoined. "To lure the desired snake into a box, and then take it home and confine it in the jewel casket, may have been done quite easily."

"It must have been done before the company closed its engagement."

"No doubt," admitted Nick. "Then Cervera was too crafty to use it at once. She waited nearly a week. Then she dressed herself in cheap attire, put on a thick veil, and lay in wait for her rival's maid and companion, to whom she gave the package and her instructions regarding it."

"What first led you to suspect the crime and the means, Nick?" inquired Chick, curiously.

"Several facts," explained Nick. "The girl's sudden death seemed peculiar. The jewel casket beside her was empty, at once suggesting that something had been removed or fallen from it. Yet nothing was to be found."

"That's true."

"The paper wrapper was punctured with a pin in many places, the holes running even through the lining of the casket. That fact, too, was suggestive. People are not in the habit of doing up parcels and then punching them full of holes with a pin."

"Well, hardly."

"Cervera made those holes, Chick, in order that her venomous captive might not expire for want of air."

"No doubt of it, Nick. But what do you think led Mary Barton to open the package after having been told not to do so?"

"Curiosity, perhaps," replied Nick. "Or possibly she considered the circ.u.mstances to be so strange that she felt that she had a right to open it. Be that as it may, it is plain that Mary Barton sat down on the park seat, after leaving Boyden and there briefly considered the matter."

"How do you arrive at that deduction, Nick?"

"From the tiny tinge of fresh blood about one of the pinholes on the interior of the lining," explained Nick. "The stain must have come from the point of the pin, and when the pin was drawn out of the box, not when it was thrust into it. In the latter case the pin point would have been cleansed before pa.s.sing through the lining, and the stain would have been on the outside rather than the inside."

"Surely."

"Then it at once became plain that Mary Barton, while sitting there, had thrust her hat pin through one of the previously made apertures, possibly aiming to discover in this way what the box contained, and in so doing she probably p.r.i.c.ked the confined reptile."

"Ah, I see," nodded Chick. "All this strongly indicated that something might have been confined in the casket."

"Yes, certainly. Not thus learning what the box contained," continued Nick, "Mary Barton decided to open it. The moment she raised the lid the snake, probably angered by its wound and long confinement, instantly struck at her hand, snake-fashion, and buried its fangs in her wrist."

"Hence the tiny, red spot which you so quickly discovered."

"Precisely."

"Very shrewd of you, Nick."

"Greatly frightened, the girl probably fainted, and fell to the ground,"

added Nick, in conclusion of the deductions by which he had solved the remarkable mystery. "The snake instantly scurried away through the gra.s.s, and left no trail behind him. Before the girl could recover from her swoon, the deadly poison had done its work. The venom of some of these India snakes is horribly rapid in its action."

"That's true," cried Chick. "I saw one at the theater that evening, the venom of which would kill a man in ten seconds. A wee bit of a cuss at that."

"Probably this was one of the same breed," said Nick, grimly. "At all events, I am sure that murder was the crime, and a snake the means."

"And Sanetta Cervera the criminal."

"Beyond the shadow of a doubt," declared Nick.

"And what do you expect to learn from the Hindoo?"

"I wish to know, in corroboration of my suspicions, whether Pandu Singe has missed any of his infernal reptiles."

"Ah, I see."

"If he has, my theory is surely correct, and we next must fix the guilt upon the guilty," said Nick, firmly. "I shall arrest Cervera this very night, providing the Hindoo informs me that-- Ah, here we are at his door. Come into the house with me, Chick, and we'll see what he has to say."

They had stopped before an ordinary brick house on the East Side, and Nick quickly mounted the steps and rang the bell. The summons brought a corpulent English woman to the door, from whom Nick learned that the Hindoo and his interpreter were still there.

"Doesn't Pandu Singe speak English?" inquired Nick.

"Dear me, no!" exclaimed the landlady, with a mute yet visible laugh--visible in that her convolutions of flesh became observably agitated. "Not the first word, sir. He talks only a blooming jargon fit for snakes and spiders and that like."

Nick laughed agreeably, having a request on his tongue's end.

"He has moved his beastly den o' reptiles into my cellar to stay till next season, sir, a 'orror I'd not stand for a minute, so I wouldn't, only he pays me very 'andsome for the same."

"Then he intends remaining here all summer, does he?"

"He do," replied the woman, with startling terseness after the foregoing.

"I wish to see him briefly on business," said Nick. "Go and ask him if he will receive us."

The landlady complied, returning presently and inviting the two detectives into the house. She led the way to a rear room off the hall, at the door of which stood a swarthy foreigner, who bowed and smiled as the callers approached.

"'E's the hinterpreter," vouchsafed the landlady, in a wheezy whisper.

Nick nodded understandingly.

Reading by the light of a lamp on a table in the room sat the Hindoo snake charmer himself, clad in a rich, loose robe of Oriental fashion.

He arose with much deliberation and dignity when the detectives entered, and gravely bowed in greeting, while his interpreter hastened to place chairs for the visitors.

Through the interpreter Nick quickly explained his business, and saw a look of surprise appear on the face of Pandu Singe when inquiries were made about the loss of a snake.

It took Nick but a short time to learn what he desired. Precisely as he expected, the Hindoo had missed one of his snakes about ten days before, one of the most venomous and dangerous of the lot.

Hearing no reports or complaints about the missing reptile, however, Pandu Singe had come to the conclusion that the snake had died in the den and then been devoured by one of his companions in captivity. So the Hindoo had let the matter drop, and had said nothing about it.

Nick did not disclose the true occasion for his inquiries, but invented a satisfactory explanation, and at the end of a quarter of an hour the two detectives departed and entered their waiting carriage.

"Rather a dignified chap, after all, that Pandu Singe," laughed Chick, as they settled themselves on the cushions.