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For murder leaped up in his heart as flame leaps up in pine-kindling. The weak young man got to his knees, then to his feet. He steadied himself by clutching the back of a chair. With one hand he felt of his throat tenderly. "He tried to kill me, the blackguard!" he croaked. "Craig, it is you! For ten years I've never thought of you without murder in my heart.
Craig moved over to the side of the room away from the two girls, where Doctor Scott was standing. "Sometimes," I heard the doctor venture, "I think it is aconite, but the symptoms are not quite the same. Besides, I don't see how it could have been administered. There's no mark on him that might have come from a hypodermic, no wound, not even a scratch. He couldn't have swallowed it.
Haswell lived not very far from the house we had just left. He appeared a little surprised to see us so soon, but very interested in what had taken place. "Who is this Dr. Scott?" asked Craig when we were seated in the comfortable leather chairs of the old-fashioned consulting-room. "Really, I know no more about him than you do," replied Burnham.
Craig had ordered our taxicab driver to stop for us after lunch, and, without exciting suspicion, managed to stow away the larger part of the contents of our grips in his car.
Next he packed the blood samples and other evidence in the traveling bag once more. Mackay was bursting with impatience, but Craig still refused to betray his suspicions. "I must get back there quick," he hastened. "I want everybody in the projection room. In court, a jury might not grasp the infallibility of the methods I've used.
"At least we can't sink, for we're right on shore," and as he spoke the fog blew away for a moment, showing a bleak shore of rocks with hemlock trees a little way up from the beach. "Yes, sir, we ran plumb on the rocks!" muttered Captain Craig, as he stood up and tried to peer through the fog that was now closing in again.
Out West it had been Ed Craig who had figured out the problems on paper, and Wade who had reached the same conclusions with pick and shovel and dynamite. Their methods differed, but the results attained were similar. So, as I have said, Wade abandoned the problem on paper and set to work, metaphorically, with steel and explosives.
The trouble with it all is that they have made the thing so underground that no one but the principals know anything about it not even the agents. I guess you are right about the detectaphone." "To-day's the day, is it?" mused Craig. "So I understand." "I think I can get them with a new machine they never dreamed of," exclaimed Kennedy, who had been turning something over in his mind.
"Is that all?" asked Craig, with the mention of Australia Mac showing the first real interest yet in anything that McNeill had done since we met him the night before. "All so far. I wired for more details immediately." "Do you know anything about this Australia Mac?" "Not much. No one does. He's a new man, it seems, to the police here."
Says I, 'Am I a gardener as knows his business, or arn't I, Mills? Answer me that. 'To be sure y' are, Craig, says he he's not a bad fellow, Mills isn't, for a butler, but weak i' the head. 'Well, says I, 'you talk o' Bony's cliverness; would it be any use my being a first-rate gardener if I'd got nought but a quagmire to work on? 'No, says he.
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