ir and place your hand deliberately upon the
place where the poison bottle was concealed? Why did you recoil? Why
did that cry rise from your lips when you saw what it contained?"

"I touched the chair inadvertently, while I waited for Miss Lawton's
appearance, and my hand coming accidentally in contact with a hard
substance, mere idle curiosity impelled me to draw it out. Naturally,
I was startled for the moment, when I saw what it was." The man's
voice deepened hoarsely, and he gave vent to another sneering, vicious
laugh. As its echo died in the room, Blaine could have sworn that he
heard a quick gasp from behind the curtains of the window-seat, but it
did not reach the ears of Rockamore.

The latter continued, his voice breaking suddenly, with a rage at last
uncontrolled:

"I could not, of course, know that that bottle of red ink was a cheap,
theatrical trick of a mountebank, a creature who is the laughing-stock
of the press and the public, in his idiotic attempts to draw
sensational notoriety upon himself. But I do know that this effort has
failed! You have dared to plant this outrageous, puerile trap to
attempt to ensnare me! You have dared to strike blindly, in your mad
thirst for publicity, at a man infinitely beyond your reach. Your
insolence ceases to be amusing! If you try to push this ridiculous
accusation, I shall ruin you, Henry Blaine!"

"No man is beyond my reach who has broken the law." The detective's
voice was quietly controlled, yet each word pierced the silence like a
sword-thrust. "I have been threatened with ruin, with death, many
times by criminals of all classes, from defaulting financiers to petty
thieves, but I still live, and my fortunes have not been materially
impaired. I do not court publicity, but I cannot shirk my duty because
it entails that. And in this case my duty is plain. You, Bertrand
Rockamore, came here, secretly, by night, to try to persuade Mr.
Lawton to go in with you on a crooked scheme--to force him to, by
blackmail, if necessary, on an old score. Failing in that, you killed
him, to prevent the nefarious operations of yourself and your
companions from being brought to light!"

"You're mad, I tell you!" roared Rockamore. "Whoever stuffed you with
such idiotic rot as that is making gammon of you! That conversation is
a chimera of some disordered mind, if it isn't merely part of a
deliberate conspiracy of yours against me! You'll suffer for this, my
man! I'll break you i