brought a happy chuckle from Shebley.
"This is the way Pagan Min must have worn it," decided Shebley. "More as an
ornament than a weapon, judging by its appearance. But Mindon Min must have
known its purpose, for if he had let his evil brother come close enough -"
Shebley gave another of his abrupt pauses, though he could well have added
- "this would have happened!" Instead, he demonstrated the deed in question.
With a stride toward Frescott, as though the latter represented Mindon Min,
Shebley gripped the cross-hilt of the katar and whipped the dagger from his
improvised belt. Pulling back, his arm drove forward like a piston, stopping
halfway in its thrust.
The jab was comfortably short of Frescott and it was lucky that it was. For
with it, Shebley illustrated the automatic action of the deadly katar. Actuated
by the pressure of Shebley's knuckles, the silver blade opened into two
sections, scissors-fashion. Those splitting halves were like spreading flower
petals, but what they disclosed was by no means pretty.
The silver blade, as dull as it was ornamental, was nothing more than a
cunningly fitted sheath for a blade of steel concealed within. Needle-pointed,
razor-edged, the deadly prong jabbed into sight like a cobra's fang lashing from
a widened mouth!
Professor Frescott might have been expecting something of the sort, for he
didn't budge a muscle. Shebley's mock thrust could have scared his visitor into
immobility, but Frescott's broad face revealed nothing resembling fear. Rather
casually, the professor held out his hand, silently requesting the privilege of
examining the weapon. Shebley gave a reverse flip that closed the outer blade;
then handed over the katar.
"I admire your sangfroid, professor," Shebley commented. "Other visitors
have been more impressed."
"Who for example?"
"Lionel Graff," named Shebley. "Which proves that Graff does not know as
much about Oriental antiques as he claims."
"Graff is merely a speculator." There was a tone of contempt from Frescott.
"Surely you do not take his word on anything" - the professor was tilting his
head to study Shebley's face - "or do you?"
"On speculative propositions, yes," returned Shebley, "because that is
Graff's business. There, professor!" Shebley became suddenly enthusiastic.
"You've got the hang of it already!"
Shebley was referring to the katar, which was performing its scissors trick
under the persuasion of Frescott's knuckles. With a style that might have been
termed professional, the museum curator was causing the hidden blade to show and
disappear by movements forward and back that were almost imperceptible.
Then, closing the katar, Frescott took it by the harmless outer blade and
held it so he could examine the large Balas ruby that showed a deepening tint in
the glow of sunset that was streaming in from Shebley's well-barred window.
"A magnificent specimen," mused Frescott, half aloud, without specifying
whether he meant the katar or the gem which ornamented it. "Yes, I believe that
I would class it as unique."
Shebley was quick to take advantage of those words. Eager-eyed, he
demanded:
"Unique? Like the chest of Chu Chan?"
Momentarily, Frescott's eyes matched the ruby's glitter. Then, relaxing his
