Honestly, I didn't know who was more surprised when the oddly dressed man vanished. Holmes had concluded that the man was of mixed European and Oriental ancestry who belonged to a military organization of some sort in Japan when he had first spotted him.

During the pursuit in which the man had nearly outrun them several times, the fugitive had thrown weapons he had vaguely recalled reading about in some of the more sensational stories about the Far East.

When I finally got a clear shot, the man moved his hands in a most peculiar manner and vanished in a whirl of leaves that had shown up out of nowhere.

"Watson..." Holmes said, clearly at a loss.

"I can't go after him Holmes." I said. "I'm a doctor, not a ninja."

That was about the time the guy's buddies showed up and captured us. What followed is an adventure that will not be published until long after my death. Until then, I'll keep the manuscript in a certain safety deposit box, if I don't decide to burn it that is. My adventures on the Hidden Continent were rather embarrassing to say the least.