his contortions and gaped at her.

"I never thought of that," he said.

"What have you done with him?" she asked, very pale.

"I tell you, I don't know."

"You must know what you did with him," she insisted.

Quint shook his head impatiently, apparently preoccupied with other
thoughts. We stood watching him in silence until he looked up and became
conscious of our concentrated gaze.

"My caterpillars are starving," he began violently. "I haven't anything
else they'll eat. They feed only on the Bimba leaf. They _won't_ eat
anything else. It's a well-known fact that they won't. Why, in Johore,
where they came from, they'll travel miles over the ground to find a
Bimba bush--"

"What!" exclaimed Mildred.

"Certainly--miles! They'd starve sooner than eat anything except Bimba
leaves. If there's a bush within twenty miles they'll find it--"

"Wait," said Mildred quietly. "Where are these starving caterpillars?"

"In a glass jar in my pocket--here! What the devil are you doing!" For
the girl had dexterously slipped the glass jar from his coat pocket and
was holding it up to the light.

Inside it were several dozen tiny, dark caterpillars, some resting
disconsolately on the sides of the glass, some hungrily travelling over
the bottom in pitiful and hopeless quest of nourishment.

Heedless of the shouts and threats of Dr. Quint, the girl calmly uncorked
the jar, took on her slender forefinger a single little caterpillar,
replaced the cork, and, kneeling down, gently disengaged the caterpillar.
It dropped upon the floor, remained motionless for a moment, then,
turning, began to travel rapidly toward the doorway behind us.

"Now," she said, "if poor Professor Boomly really has concealed these
Bimba leaves upon his own person, this little caterpillar, according to
Dr. Quint, is certain to find those leaves."

[Illustration: "'This little caterpillar ... is certain to find those
leaves.'"]

Overcome with excitement and admiration for this intelligent and
unusually beautiful girl, I seized her hands and congratulated her.

"Murder," said I to the miserable Quint, "will out! This infant
caterpillar shall lead us to that dark and secret spot where you had
hoped to conceal the horrid evidence of your guilt. Three things have
undone you--a caterpillar replete with mysterious instinct, a humble
bunch of Bimba leaves, and the marvellous intelligence of this young and
lovely girl. Madman, your hour has struck!"

He look