h Dr. Lambert stated calmly, and without attempting to go into
technical details. Not so Dr. Baird. He spoke learnedly of Reinsch's
test for arsenic, of Bloxam's method, of the distillation process. He
juggled with words, and finally, when pinned down by a direct but homely
question from Billy Teller, admitted that he did not know what had
killed Mr. Carwell.

Testimony to the same effect was given by several chemists who had
analyzed the stomach and viscera of the dead man. There was a sediment
of poison present, they admitted, and sufficient had been extracted in a
free state to end the lives of several guinea pigs on which it had been
tested. But as to the exact nature of the poison they could not yet say.
More time for analysis was needed.

It was certain that Mr. Carwell had come to his death by an active
agent in the nature of some substance, as yet unknown, which he either
swallowed purposely, by accident, or because some one gave it to
him either knowingly or unknowingly. This was a sufficiently broad
hypothesis on which to base almost anything, thought Colonel Ashley, as
he sat and listened in the corner of the improvised courtroom.

There was a stir of excitement and anticipation when Viola was called,
but beyond testifying that her father was in his usual health when he
went with her to the golf game, she could throw no light on the puzzle,
nor could the dead man's sister or any of the servants.

"Call Jean Forette," said the prosecutor, and the chauffeur, a decidedly
nervous man on whom the excitement of testifying plainly told, came to
the stand.

He made a poor showing, and there were several whispers that ran around
the courtroom, but poor Jean's rather distressing manner was improved
when Mr. Stryker took him in hand to question him. The prosecutor,
observing that the man was more frightened than anything else, soon put
him at his ease, and then the witness told a clear and connected story.
He admitted frankly that because he had not the faculty, or, perhaps,
the desire to drive the big, new car, he and his late employer were to
part company at the end of the month. That was no secret, and there were
no hard feelings on either side. It was in the course of business, and
natural.

Yes, he had driven Mr. Carwell and his daughter to the links that day in
the big red, white and blue machine. Mr. Carwell had been in his usual
jolly spirits, and had greeted several acquaintances on the road.

Had they