to life after they
were found."

"I worked over Mr. Langmore, yes," was the young physician's answer.
"I saw at once that it was impossible to do anything for his wife. She
had a weak heart naturally, and was stone dead some time before I got
there."

"You thought you saw a spark of life in Mr. Langmore?"

"Not exactly a spark, but I thought there might be hope. But I was
mistaken, although I did everything I could."

"I have been told that working over the corpse made you sick."

At these words, the face of the young physician showed his annoyance.
He drew himself up.

"Excuse me, but you are--" and he paused inquiringly.

"I am working on this case in the interests of Miss Langmore. My name
is Adams."

"Oh!"

"What I would like to know is, What made you sick? Was it merely that
a crime had been committed--something you were not accustomed to?"

"No, it was not, Mr. Adams. I am young, I know, but I have had a good
hospital experience, and such things do not unnerve me. To be sure,
Mr. Langmore was a good neighbor, and I thought much of him. But it
was not that."

"Then what was it?"

"It was something about the corpse. As I worked I had to
sneeze--something seemed to get into my nose and throat, and in a
minute more I began to have cramps and grew deathly sick. It was the
queerest sensation I ever experienced in my life. I haven't gotten
over it yet."

"You had to go out to get some fresh air?"

"I did. If I had not, I think I should have suffered much more."

"And you found no trace of any poison, or anything of that sort?"

"Not the slightest. Another doctor was called in, and then I went
back. The peculiar odor, or whatever it was, was gone, and I could
find no further trace of it."

"You think it must have evaporated?"

"What else is there to think? The windows and blinds had been thrown
wide open, and the sun was shining into the room."

This was all the young doctor could tell, and as he was in a hurry to
get away on more business, the detective did not detain him further.
He ascertained that Mrs. Bardon was also away, and then left the house.

In his pocket he still carried the bit of paper which he had picked up
from under the safe. It had evidently been part of the wrapper around
some small object, and bore the following, printed in blue ink:

nder & Co.,
ley Street,
ter, N. Y.
ark.

The paper might be valuable, and it might be worthless.