door of the little room was thrown hastily and
somewhat violently open, and Viola Carwell confronted the three men. Her
face showed traces of grief, but it had lost little of the beauty for
which she was noted.

Tall and dark, with hair of that blue--black sheen so rarely observed,
with violet eyes and a poise and grace that made her much observed,
Viola Carwell was at the height of her beauty. In a sense she had the
gentle grace of her mother and with that the verve and sprightliness of
her father mingled perfectly. It was no wonder that Captain Poland and
Harry Bartlett and many others, for that matter, were rivals for her
favors.

"I thought you were here," she said quietly to Dr. Lambert. "Oh, Uncle
Add, what is it? Tell me the truth!" she begged as she placed a hand on
his arm, a hand that trembled in spite of her determination to remain
calm. "Please tell me the truth!"

"The truth, Viola?" he questioned gently.

"Yes. I'm afraid you are trying to keep something back from me. This
looks like it--you men in here talking--consulting as to what is best to
do. Tell me. My father is dead. But that, I know, is not the worst that
can happen. Tell me! Is there-is there any disgrace? I know--"

Viola stopped as though she herself feared the words she was about to
utter. Dr. Lambert quickly spoke.

"There has been no disgrace, my dear Viola," he said, gently. "We have
just come from the--from having made an investigation--Dr. Baird and
myself and Dr. Rowland. We discovered that your father was poisoned,
and--"

"Poisoned?" she gasped, and started back as though struck, while her
rapid glances went from face to face, resting longest on the countenance
of Captain Poland. It was as though, in this great emergency, she looked
to him for comfort more than to the old doctor who had ushered her into
the world.

"I am sorry to have to say it, Viola, but such is the case," went
on the family physician. "Your father was poisoned. But the kind of
poison we have not yet determined."

"But who gave it to him?" she cried. "Oh, it doesn't seem that any
one would hate him so, not even his worst enemy. And he had so many
friends-too many, perhaps."

"We don't know that any one gave him the poison, Viola," said Dr.
Lambert, gently. "In fact, it does not seem that any one did, or your
father would have known it. Certainly if any one had tried to make
him take poison there would have been a struggle that he would have
mentioned.