e. "She's murdering him by inches, that's what she's doing,
and I want you to help me bring it home to her. God knows what it is
she's using or how she uses it; but you know what demons they are for
secret poisons, those Javanese, what means they have of killing people
without a trace. And she was out there for years and years. So, too, was
Travers, the brute! They know all the secrets of those beastly
barbarians, and between them they're doing something to my old dad."

"How do you know that?"

"I don't know it, that's the worst of it. But I couldn't be surer of it
if they took me into their secrets. But there's the evidence of his
condition; there's the fact that it didn't begin until after Travers
came. Look here, Mr. Headland, you don't know my dad. He's got the
queerest notions sometimes. One of his fads is that it's unlucky to make
a will. Well, if he dies without one, who will inherit his money, as I
am an only child?"

"Undoubtedly you and his widow."

"Exactly. And if I die at pretty nearly the same time--and they'll see
to that, never fear; it will be my turn the moment they are sure of
him--she will inherit everything. Now, let me tell you what's happening.
From being a strong, healthy man, my father has, since Travers's
arrival, begun to be attacked by a mysterious malady. He has periodical
fainting fits, sometimes convulsions. He'll be feeling better for a day
or so; then, without a word of warning, whilst you're talking to him,
he'll drop like a shot bird and go into the most horrible convulsions.
The doctors can't stop it; they don't even know what it is. They only
know that he's fading away--turning from a strong, virile old man into a
thin, nervous, shivering wreck. But I know! I know! They're dosing him
somehow with some diabolical Javanese thing, those two. And
yesterday--God help me!--yesterday I, too, dropped like a shot bird; I,
too, had the convulsions and the weakness and the fainting fit. My time
has begun also!"

"Bless my soul! what a diabolical thing!" put in Narkom agitatedly. "No
wonder you appealed to me!"

"No wonder!" Bawdrey replied. "I felt that it had gone as far as I dared
let it; that it was time to call in the police and to have help before
it was too late. That's the case, Mr. Headland. I want you to find some
way of getting at the truth, of looking into Travers's luggage, into my
stepmother's effects, and unearthing the horrible stuff with which they
are doing this thing;