suspicious, and therefore it was very easy for a person to slip enough
poison in that cup unseen by anybody at that table, so that when he
drank his coffee nothing could have saved him. He rose from the table
feeling badly, and he went to his room and died. Now, who could have
placed that poison in his cup of coffee? It must have been one of the
two that sat at his right and left hand. A young lady sat at his right
hand. She certainly did not commit the crime. You, Stephen Roland, sat
at his left hand. Do you deny any of the facts I have recited?"

"That is a very ingenious chain of circumstantial evidence. Of course,
you do not think it strong enough to convict a man of such a serious
crime as murder?"

"No; I quite realize the weakness of the case up to this point. But
there is more to follow. Fourteen days before that dinner you purchased
at the drug store on the corner of Blank Street and Nemo Avenue thirty
grains of morphia. You had the poison put up in capsules of five
grains each. What do you say to that bit of evidence added to the
circumstantial chain which you say is ingenious?"

The doctor knit his brows and leaned back in his chair.

"By the gods!" he said, "you are right. I did buy that morphia. I
remember it now. I don't mind telling you that I had a number of
experiments on hand, as every doctor has, and I had those capsules put
up at the drug store, but this tragedy coming on made me forget all
about the matter."

"Did you take the morphia with you, doctor?"

"No, I did not. And the box of capsules, I do not think, has been
opened. But that is easily ascertained."

The doctor rose, went to his cabinet, and unlocked it. From a number of
packages he selected a small one, and brought it to the desk, placing it
before the reporter.

"There is the package. That contains, as you say, thirty grains of
morphia in half a dozen five-grain capsules. You see that it is sealed
just as it left the drug store. Now, open it and look for yourself. Here
are scales; if you want to see whether a single grain is missing or not,
find out for yourself.

"Perhaps," said the newspaper man, "we had better leave this
investigation for the proper authorities."

"Then you still believe that I am the murderer of William Brenton?"

"Yes, I still believe that."

"Very well; you may do as you please. I think, however, in justice
to myself, you should stay right here, and see that this box is not
tampered with until the pr