an excellent thing, my dear
fellow, and I mean to make sure that the gentlemen of this house-party
have it--one gentleman in particular: Captain Travers."

"Yes; but--I say! What about me, old chap? I don't want to be drugged,
and you know I have to show them the courtesy of taking a 'night-cap'
with them."

"Precisely. That's where you can help me out. If any of them remark
anything about the whisky having a peculiar taste, you must stoutly
assert that you don't notice; and, as they've seen you drinking from the
same decanter--why, there you are. Don't worry over it. It's a very,
very harmless draught; you won't even have a headache from it. Listen
here, Bawdrey. Somebody is poisoning your father."

"I know it. I told you so from the beginning, Headland," he answered,
with a sort of wail. "But what's that got to do with drugging the
whisky?"

"Everything. I'm going to find out to-night whether Captain Travers is
that somebody or not. Sh-h-h! Don't get excited. Yes, that's my game. I
want to get into his room whilst he is sleeping, and be free to search
his effects. I want to get into every man's room here, and wherever I
find poison--well, you understand?"

"Yes," he replied, brightening as he grasped the import of the matter.
"What a ripping idea! And so simple."

"I think so. Once let me find the poison, and I'll know my man. Now, one
other thing: the housekeeper must have a master-key that opens all the
bedrooms in the place. Get it for me. It will be easier and swifter than
picking the locks."

"Right you are, old chap. I'll slip up to Mrs. Jarret's room and fetch
it to you at once."

"No; tuck it under the mat just outside my door. As it won't do for me
to be drugged as well as the rest of you, I shan't put in an appearance
when the rest come down. Say I've got a headache, and have gone to bed.
As for my own 'night-cap'--well, I can send Dollops down to get the
butler to pour me one out of another decanter, so that will be all
right. Now, toddle off and get the key, there's a good chap. And, I say,
Bawdrey, as I shan't see you again until morning--good-night."

"Good-night, old chap!" he answered in his impulsive, boyish way. "You
are a friend, Headland. And you'll save my dad, God bless you! A true,
true friend that's what you are. Thank God I ran across you."

Cleek smiled and nodded to him as he passed out and hurried away; then,
hearing the other gentlemen coming down the stairs, he, too, made has