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"Certainly. The bedroom is no great distance from the library, and the door of the latter was open. But then Jaggard didn't cry out!" "Yes, and I honor you for it." Again he bent down and examined the face and hands. Both were swollen and discolored; he tore open the shirt at the neck, and saw that the young man's breast was all distended and bloated. Undoubtedly the cause of death was blood-poisoning, and the devil-stick had been the instrument used to effect the deed. But here the problem proposed itself: Who had killed Maurice? The person who had stolen the devil-stick! Who had stolen the devil-stick? The person who--Major Jen came to an abrupt pause. He could think for the moment of no answer to that question; but it is only fair to say that, dazed by the terrible occurrence of his dear lad's death, Jen had not his wits about him..

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Major Jen considered again, and looked her straightly in the eyes. It struck his sense of smell with the belief that he had smelt it before. Nothing is so strong to awaken memory as odor, and in less than half a minute the mind of the major leaped back to where he had smelt it before. It was the perfume of the dried poison of the devil-stick. "You're a wonder, Kendall Major," she broke out. "Here am I all fluffed up and on positive pins and needles over this affair, while you are as calm as a picture. Don't you feel excited? Aren't you wild to hear what it is?" "Mamie Johnson did it—poked her finger down her throat and mine, too," he wailed against my breast. "We was full of things people gived us to eat and couldn't eat no more. She said if we did that with our fingers it would make room for some more then. She did it, and I'm going to die dead—dead!.