e said to the old woman. "You'll not be
needed here any more. And see that you keep your jaw closed over
this," he added harshly. And the woman slunk away as if struck, like a
dog.

Once inside of the cottage, he took up a glass of water standing on the
table, and to this added a powder taken from his pocket, stirring it up
well. Then he looked around to see that there was no other water
around the building.

"When she rouses up she will be dry, and she will drink this," he
muttered to himself. "Half a glass will do the work and she will never
bother me or anybody else any more."

He paused again and took from his pocket several sheets of paper,
closely and carelessly written upon in pencil. The first sheet was
headed:

_Dying Confession of Margaret Langmore._

"A fine forgery, if I do say so myself," he mused. "Mat, you always
were a plum with the pen. I'll add a line telling where she can be
found and then send it to the coroner. That will be better than
leaving it around here. She might find it before she drank that dose."
He paused again. "Perhaps she won't drink it after all. I'll give her
some of it now, and make sure."

He raised up the almost lifeless girl, and forced open her lips. Then
he took the glass, and poured half the contents down her throat. She
spluttered, but swallowed, and he let her form drop back on the bed.
He was in a cold perspiration now, and in sudden fear, he fairly rushed
out of the cottage and down the hillside in the direction of his home.

CHAPTER XXX

RAISING THE CURTAIN

As soon as his interview with Tom Ostrello was at an end, Adam Adams
asked the young man to leave him.

"I am going to follow up this clew," he said. "And the quicker the
better."

He looked over a valise he carried and selected a number of things he
wanted. Midnight found him at the depot, boarding a train for
Fairfield. At the latter place he changed and took another train for
Bryport. Arriving at that city, he located at a hotel, and went to bed.

He was up at sunrise and procured an early breakfast. Then he returned
to his room and spent a full hour in donning another outfit and in
powdering his face, and adjusting a wig and a reddish moustache.

The same car that had taken him to the vicinity of John Watkins'
residence before, took him there again. As he approached the house he
saw the secret service man coming forth.

"Excuse me, Mr. Watkins, but I must see you