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"H'm!" said Jen. "But seeing that you were so ill, was no one watching beside you?" For the moment Major Jen did not ask any more questions, for the very simple reason that he did not exactly know what course to take. Undoubtedly the tramp was telling the truth. He had no reason to conceal it; for in his own mind Jen quite acquitted him of any complicity in the crime. That so feeble and elderly a creature, debauched by intemperance, weak from insufficient food, should attack a vigorous young athlete like Maurice, was out of the question, even though he had the advantage of possessing the devil-stick. But here the question of the dried-up poison occurred to Jen. If the poison had evaporated by the lapse of time, the devil-stick must have been innocuous and incapable of inflicting death. Therefore, upon the evidence of the saturated handkerchief, the bag concealed in the turquoise-studded handle must have been refilled by Dido!--Dido, for the significant reason that she, inheriting the traditions of her Ashantee grandmother, alone must have been capable of manufacturing the deadly drug. To prove this assumption, a feasible one, the devil-stick was close at hand. "I owe you much more than I can ever repay," said he, in harsh tones. "All the same, Uncle Jen, I cannot reveal, even to you, what I know. If I did so, you would be the first to blame me.".

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"Oh, what about Dido and her meeting you?" Patricia gasped, and in the moment's silence that fell she gave the promising authoress a little shake. "Silence!" thumped Patricia. "No, no," cried Mrs. Dallas, wringing her hands. "She will catch the train there and go to London. Oh, why didn't you stop her?".