He held up before us a cigar-shaped affair of steel, about eight
inches long, with a tiny propeller and rudder of a size to
correspond. Above was a series of wires, four or five inches in
length, which, he explained, were the aerials by which the torpedo
was controlled.

"The principle of the thing," he went on proudly, "is that I use
wireless waves to actuate relays on the torpedo. The power is in
the torpedo; the relay releases it. That is, I send a child with a
message; the grown man, through the relay, does the work. So, you
see, I can sit miles away in safety and send my little David out
anywhere to strike down a huge Goliath."

It was not difficult to catch his enthusiasm over the marvellous
invention, though we could not follow him through the mazes of
explanation about radio-combinators, telecommutators and the rest
of the technicalities. I may say, however, that on his radio-
combinator he had a series of keys marked "Forward," "Back,"
"Start," "Stop," "Rudder Right," "Rudder Left," and so on.

He had scarcely finished his brief description when there came a
knock at the door. I answered it. It was Chase and his assistant,
whom Kennedy had employed in the affair.

"We've found the place on Pell Street that we think is Wu Fang's,"
they reported excitedly. "It's in number fourteen, as you thought.
We've left an operative disguised as a blind beggar to watch the
place."

"Oh, good!" exclaimed Elaine, as Craig and I hurried out after