a letter to her in the office at the
horse show, and had fascinated her with his glittering talk of wealth
and ease. The news of his engagement had driven her frantic.

Curiously enough, the young fellow with her did not seem to be
dissipated in the least. There was, on the contrary, an earnestness
about him that one was rather sorry to see in such a place. In fact, he
was a clean-cut young man, evidently more of a student than a sport. He
reminded me of some one I had seen before.

I was getting rather interested in an underworld cabaret when, suddenly,
Kennedy grasped my arm. At the same moment, a shot was fired.

We jumped to our feet in time to see a young tough, with a slouch like
that of the rubbers and grooms at Broadhurst's. The fellow who had been
seated with Cecilie was struggling with him for the possession of a
pistol, which had been discharged harmlessly. Evidently the tough had
been threatening him with it.

The waiters crowded around them, and the general _melee_ about Cecilie's
table was at its height when a policeman came dashing in on the run.

The arrest of the gunman and his opponent, as well as of Cecilie as a
witness, seemed imminent. Kennedy moved forward slowly, working his way
through the crowd, nearer to the table. Instead of interfering, however,
he stooped down and picked up something from the floor.

"Let's get out of this as quickly as possible, Walter," he whispered,
turning to me.

When we reached the street, he stopped under an arc-light, and I saw him
dive down into his pocket and pull out a little glass vial. He looked at
it curiously.

"I saw her take it out of her pocketbook and throw it into a corner as
soon as the policeman came in," he explained.

"What do you think it is?" I asked. "Dope? That's what they all do if
they get a chance when they are pinched--throw it away."

"Perhaps," answered Kennedy. "But it's worth studying to see what drug
she is really using."

Late as it was, Craig insisted on going directly to the laboratory to
plunge into work. First, he took the little hypodermic needle with which
he had drawn several drops of blood from the race-horse, and emptied the
contents into a test tube.

Finding that I was probably of more use at home in our apartment asleep
than bothering Kennedy in the laboratory, I said good-night. But when I
awoke in the morning, I found that Kennedy had not been in bed at all.

It was as I expected. He had worked all night, an