CHAPTER III
A HAMPSTEAD MYSTERY
With a shriek of alarm I leapt to the further side of the table which stood in the middle of the room, and at that moment hurried footsteps became audible.
Our wild shouts for help had evidently been heard, for someone was hurrying down the bare oak stairs into the hall.
“Hang this confounded lock—it catches!” we heard a voice exclaim as the handle turned. Then an instant later the door was flung open, and Gastrell stood before us.
“I am dreadfully sorry, you fellows,” he said apologetically, “that you should have been alarmed in this way, because I can assure you that my tame cobra, ‘Maharaja,’ is quite harmless—look at him now,” and we saw that the horrid reptile had swung round the instant its master had entered, and was sliding towards his feet. “He
