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"You certainly are the limit," she said, gravely. "What makes you care so much about words and names and such like things?" she asked, trying to get at a clearer understanding of her little sister's mental processes.,

Mrs. Dallas declared that she suffered--like her daughter--from nervous headaches. To cure these she submitted frequently to hypnotic treatment at the hands of Dido, who was gifted with a strong will. On the night the devil-stick was stolen she had been hypnotized, but she did not know what she did while under the influence. While in the trance--as it may be called--she never knew what she did, and she had hitherto had every confidence in Dido, as an old and faithful servant, that she--Dido--would not induce her to do wrong things while hypnotized. She had never seen the devil-stick, either at the house of Major Jen or in her own. The negress had prepared a drug for the cure of headaches, which witness believed was similar--as was judged from the perfume--to the poison contained in the devil-stick. She knew that her daughter wished to marry the deceased, but for certain reasons--not pertinent to the case--she had declined to sanction the engagement. She would not have permitted her daughter to marry Dr. Etwald, as she did not like him or approve of the influence which he exercised over Dido. She knew that prisoner possessed the Voodoo stone, and by means of it could make any member of the black race do his will. Prisoner was a declared enemy of the deceased, as a jealousy existed between them on account of her daughter. In presence of witnesses prisoner had threatened deceased. She knew nothing of the theft of the body.,

"Obi!" was the brief reply. "You hab told ole Dido what she wish about de debble-stick.",

"There was ample necessity for prompt action," replied Etwald, with some dryness, "as neither David nor I wished to be arrested. But now you can understand how it was that David refused to reply to your questions and agreed to defend me."

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Patricia, with her cheeks glowing and twin lights dancing in her big eyes, loitered so over her dressing that they were among the last to leave.,

"Where is Mr. Sarby?",

"Because I love her!",

Patricia laughed at Judith's expression, as she watched François whisk away to the dumb-waiter in the far corner of the little apartment, and roar stentorian commands in indistinguishable French to an unseen source of supply below.