A member of
the family, Mygale, its sting was more quickly and certainly
fatal than that of a rattle-snake. Its instinct was fearlessly
to attack any creature, great or small, which disturbed it in its
dark hiding-place.
Now, with feverish, horrible rapidity it was racing up the
tapestries on the other side of the room.
"Merciful God!" groaned the sergeant.
Snatching a revolver from his pocket he fired shot after shot.
The third hit the thing but did not kill it. It dropped back
upon the floor and began to crawl toward the coffin. The
sergeant ran across and at close quarters shot it again.
Red blood oozed out from the hideous black body and began to form
a deep stain upon the carpet.
When Durham, drenched but unhurt, was hauled back into the
treasure-house, he did not speak, but, scrambling into the room
stood--pallid--staring dully at old Huang Chow.
Huang Chow, upon his knees beside his daughter, was engaged in
sprinkling priceless jewels over her still body, and murmuring in
Chinese:
"For you, for you, Lala. They were all for you."
KERRY'S KID
I
RED KERRY ON DUTY
Chief Inspector Kerry came down from the top of a motor-bus and
stood on the sidewalk for a while gazing to right and left along
Piccadilly.
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