On all sides were shelves filled with bottles of deadly liquids
and scientific apparatus for crime. Jars of picric acid, nitric
acid, carboys of other chemicals, packages labelled gunpowder, gun
cotton and nitroglycerine, as well as carefully stoppered bottles
of prussic acid, and the cyanides, arsenic and other poisons made
the place bear the look of a veritable devil's workshop.
Clutching Hand, at a bench in one corner, had just completed an
infernal machine of diabolical cunning, and was wrapping it
carefully in paper to make an innocent package.
He was interrupted by a knock at the door. Laying down the bomb he
went to answer the summons with a stealthy movement. There stood
Long Sin, who had disguised himself as a Chinese laundryman.
"On time--good!" growled Clutching Hand surlily as he closed the
door with equal care.
No time was wasted in useless formalities.
"This is a bomb," he went on, pointing to the package. "Carry it
carefully. On no account let it slip, or you are a dead man. It
must be in Kennedy's laboratory before night. Understand? Can you
arrange it?"
Long Sin looked the dangerous package over, then with an impassive
look, replied, "Have no fear. I can do it. It will be in the
laboratory within an hour. Trust me."
Long Sin nodded sagely, while Clutching Hand growled his approval
as he opened the door and let out the Chinaman.
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