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"I shall ask to be allowed to have the evidence," said the impressive representative of justice. "There is no time to be lost. Come, Miss Griffin, I shall need you and Miss Howes too.",

"I don't believe you could, Molly, but maybe father will let you put a rope and a long hook in his trunk to try with, if your clothes go into mine. His is a heap the biggest anyway, and Nurse Tilly said he ought to put my things in his, but I cried, and then he went upstairs and got out that little one for me. Come and see 'em.",

"Indeed you did no such thing," retorted Etwald, coolly. "My story is quite different to that of Dido.",

"Nothing seems to be happening," said Elinor to her in an undertone as she joined her. "I believe I'll wait till later, unless I see signs of action."

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At this moment a noise in the house disturbed Dido, and with a pass or two she released Battersea from the hypnotic spell. He started, rubbed his eyes, and looked drowsily at the tall negress, who had resumed her impassive attitude.,

And here, at this point, the personality of Dr. Etwald intruded itself into the affair. It was Etwald who had bound up the wound with the handkerchief in question, and who, according to the housemaid, had forbidden its removal. The question was, had he received it from Mrs. Dallas, or had he found it on that night by the side of the insensible man. If the first, Mrs. Dallas must have perfumed it designedly with the poison, and Etwald, knowing that it was so impregnated, must have used it advisedly as a bandage. If the second, Mrs. Dallas must have been in the room on the night in question, and have used the handkerchief to render Jaggard insensible. And in either case, as the major very sensibly concluded, Mrs. Dallas must be in possession of the devil-stick. Otherwise, how could she have obtained the deadly scent?,

"Yes, he's a wonder," he said, cracking nuts studiously. "I hope he's as good on breakfasts as he used to be.",

All the men who write me letters seem to get themselves wound up into a sky rocket and then let themselves explode in the last paragraph, and it always upsets my nerves. I was just about to begin to cry again over the last words of the judge, when the only bright spot in the day so far suddenly happened. Pet Buford ran in with the pinkest cheeks and the brightest eyes I had seen since I looked in the mirror the night of the dance. She was in an awful hurry.