Evidence--in brief--of Major Jen: "I was the guardian of the deceased Maurice Alymer. I adopted him as my son. He was in love with, and engaged to, Miss Dallas, but the mother did not approve of the engagement. Dr. Etwald, the prisoner, also loved Miss Dallas, but she refused to marry him. I showed the prisoner the devil-stick and explained its use, whereupon he wished to purchase it. I declined to part with it, and afterward it was stolen. After its disappearance, Mr. Alymer was killed by means of the devil-stick poison. His hand was but slightly scratched, and he could not have died from so trivial a cause had not the weapon used been poisoned. Moreover, I recognized the perfume which emanated from the body as that of the devil-stick poison. Dr. Etwald had threatened the deceased once or twice. Afterward the body of deceased disappeared, and the drug used to stupefy the watcher of the dead was the poison of the devil-stick.",
Patricia held out her hand across the cloth. "I can't kiss you, but here's the substitute. You're a duck, Bruce Haydon. Where is the studio?",
CHAPTER X THE PRIZE DESIGNS,
Patricia held out her hand across the cloth. "I can't kiss you, but here's the substitute. You're a duck, Bruce Haydon. Where is the studio?"
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"Yes," replied Maurice, deliberately. "I suspect Dido, the negress.",
"No," said Jen, in an inflexible voice. "I go to punish the man who killed my boy.",
"I wish I could draw," mused Patricia, absently sugaring her Frankfurter. "I've got tons of ideas already.",
"Yes, I know," said Judith, expectantly, but Miss Jinny had whisked to her feet and whirled about towards the door.
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The first breath of spring was in the air, softening the chill of the crowded streets with warming sunshine and a hint of the coming miracle of the yearly resurrection. The shops were filled with the crisp, fresh-tinted goods of the nearing season, and here and there among the smartly dressed women was a modish straw hat brightening the winter furs and velvets. Patricia's cup was full and running over. She had no need for speech with Elinor, but she kept giving her hands quick little squeezes in her muff, while now and again they exchanged swift telegraphic glances of appreciation.
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She had her reward in Doris' dazzling smile, and her assurances that she would do all she could to make Elinor's vindication speedy and thorough.
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"A pup-pup-pergola," spluttered Judith, recovering a bit. "Just the sort you wanted. And we planned for Miss Pat to make one of those lovely stone seats out of concrete. But it isn't any use, now," she ended forlornly.
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>"No," murmured Mrs. Dallas, sinking into a large chair. "You are right. I have been in the sun all the morning, and only now am I beginning to feel warm, I shall certainly go back to Barbadoes."
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