dozas
without being observed. It was a simple matter after that to open a
rather heavy door that communicated between the two suites.

Instead of switching on the light, Kennedy first looked about carefully
until he was assured that no one was there. Quickly he sprinkled on the
floor from the hall door to the table on which the case of cigarettes
lay some of the powder which I had seen him wrap up in the laboratory
before we left. Then with the atomizer he sprayed over it something that
had a pungent, familiar odor, walking backwards from the hall door as he
did so.

"Don't you want more light?" I asked, starting to cross to a window to
raise a shade to let the moonlight stream in.

"Don't walk on it, Walter," he whispered, pushing me back. "First I
sprinkled some powdered iodine and then ammonia enough to moisten it. It
evaporates quickly, leaving what I call my anti-burglar powder."

He had finished his work and now the evening wind was blowing away the
slight fumes that had risen. For a few moments he left the door into the
next room open to clear away the odor, then quietly closed it, but did
not lock it.

In the darkness we settled ourselves now for a vigil that was to last we
knew not how long. Neither of us spoke as we half crouched in the shadow
of the next room, listening.

Slowly the time passed. Would anyone take advantage of the opportunity
to tamper with that box of cigarettes on Mendoza's table? Who was it who
had conceived and executed this devilish plot? What was the purpose
back of it all?

Once or twice we heard the elevator door clang and waited expectantly,
but nothing happened. I began to wonder whether if someone had a
pass-key to the Mendoza suite we could hear them enter. The outside hall
was thickly carpeted and deadened every footfall if one exercised only
reasonable caution.

"Don't you think we might leave the door ajar a little?" I suggested
anxiously.

"Sh!" was Kennedy's only comment in the negative.

I glanced now and then at my watch and was surprised to see how early it
was. The minutes were surely leaden-footed.

In the darkness and silence I fell to reviewing the weird succession of
events which had filled the past two days. I am not by nature
superstitious, but in the darkness I could well imagine a staring
succession of eyes, beginning with the dilated pupils of Don Luis and
always ending with those remarkable piercing black eyes of the Indian
woman with the melanchol