, sir," replied Blakeman, pulling his
face into shape--he had heard every word that had passed.

"No, that will do."

"Thank you, sir."

Sperry studied the butler's impassible face for a moment, measured
with his eye the distance from the pantry window to the corner of the
veranda, then he drew a long breath--the first he had drawn in some
minutes.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Sperry left early the next morning; only his host and Blakeman saw him
off. When he had reached his train and had slipped off his overcoat,
he found all the tips he had given Blakeman in its outside pocket.

The doctor was not the only man that morning that awoke with an
anxious mind. His host was equally preoccupied; all through breakfast
he had caught his thoughts straying from those usually given to a
departing guest. In his talk with Holcomb, the night before, his
manager had gone straight to the point.

"You remember, do you not," he had said, "that a horse Bergstein
bought died a week after its arrival--the first horse we lost, I
mean?"

"Yes, Billy, I remember," Thayor had answered. "Poor beast. I remember
also that you said in the letter that Bergstein was indefatigable in
his efforts to save him."

"Perhaps so--but I don't think so now, and I'll tell you why in a
minute. You remember, too, that Jimmy said he was all right that
night when he got through work and put him in the barn for the night?"
Thayor raised his eyes in surprise. "That barn was locked," Holcomb
went on, "and Bergstein had the key."

"What was the veterinary's opinion?" Thayor had asked seriously, after
a moment's thought.

"Quite different from mine," declared Holcomb; "he pronounced it
congestion."

"Was he a capable man?" demanded Thayor.

"So Bergstein said," replied Holcomb slowly. "He got him from
Montreal."

Thayor bent his head in deep thought.

"And what do you think, Holcomb?"

"That the horse was poisoned, sir."

Thayor started. "That's a serious charge. What proof have you got?"

"This"--and he opened the wisp of paper the hide-out had given him
and laid it on the table. "There's strychnine enough in that to kill
a dozen horses. This was found under Bergstein's mattress--the rest of
it is in the gray horse's stomach." Then had followed the sum of his
discoveries in which, however, no mention was made of the hide-out's
help. That was too dangerous a secret to be entrusted to anyone not of
the woods.

These discoveries had revealed a