rom his eyes.

"You saw what was printed in the papers," he answered evasively. "You
must have given it out."

"I gave out nothing," said Garrison, bent now on a new line of thought,
and determined that he would not accuse young Durgin by name till
driven to the last extremity. "But, as a matter of fact, I do know,
Mr. Wicks, that Hardy was murdered."

"Then why the devil don't you report to that effect?" snapped Wicks.
"Are you trying to shield that young woman?"

Garrison knew whom he meant, but he asked: "What young woman?"

"Dorothy Booth-Fairfax! You know who I mean!"

"What has she to do with it?" Garrison inquired in apparent innocence.
"Why should you think I'm shielding her?"

"She's the likely one--the only one who could benefit by Hardy's
death!" answered Wicks, a little less aggressively. "You could see
that by the accounts in the paper."

"I haven't read the papers for guidance," Garrison observed dryly.
"Have you?"

"I didn't come here to answer questions. I came to ask them. I demand
your report!" said Mr. Wicks. "I want to know all that you know!"

Garrison reflected that the little man knew too much. It suddenly
occurred to his mind, as the man's sharp eyes picked up every speck or
fleck upon his clothing, that Wicks, in the Subway that evening when
they rode together in the jostling crowd, could have filched that
poisoned cigar from his pocket with the utmost ease. He determined to
try a little game.

"I've been waiting for the last completing link in my chain," he said,
"before accusing any man of murder. You are right in supposing that I
have found out more than I've reported--but only in the last few days
and hours. I told you before that I thought perhaps Hardy had been
poisoned."

"Well! What more? How was it done?"

"The poison employed was crushed to a powder," and he mentioned the
name of the stuff.

"Used by photographers," commented Wicks.

"Not exclusively, but at times, yes."

"How was the stuff administered?"

"I think in a fifteen-cent cigar." Garrison was watching him closely
while apparently toying with a pen.

"Very good," said Wicks with an air of satisfaction that was not
exactly understandable. "I presume you have something to go
on--something by way of evidence?"

"No," said Garrison, "unfortunately I have not. I had a second cigar
which I believe was prepared with the poison, but I committed the
blunder of losing it somewhere--Heaven alone