erself with an
air of assumed dignity. Amelie Guernsey had regained her color in the
excitement of the ride and was, if anything, more beautiful than ever.
But, as Broadhurst intimated, one could almost feel the frigidity of the
atmosphere as the three women who had played such dramatic parts in
Murchie's life sat there, trying to watch and, at the same time, avoid
each other's gaze.

The suspense was relieved when O'Connor came in in a department car.
With him were the young man who had been seated with Cecilie at the
table the night of the fight and also the gunman.

"The magistrate in the night court settled the case that night,"
informed O'Connor, under his breath, laying down two slips of paper
before Kennedy, "but I have their pedigrees. That fellow's name is
Ronald Mawson," he said, pointing to Cecilie's companion, then
indicating the gunman, "That's Frank Giani--Frank the Wop."

I watched Mawson and Cecilie closely, but could discover nothing. They
scarcely looked at each other.

McGee, however, glared at both Mawson and the gunman, though none of
them said a word.

"They used to be out there as stable-boys at Broadhurst's," I heard
O'Connor continue, in a whisper. "I think they had a run-in and were
fired. Each says the other got him in wrong."

A moment later Kennedy began:

"When you came to my laboratory the other day, Mr. Broadhurst," he said,
"you remarked that perhaps this case might be a little out of my line,
but that I might find it sufficiently interesting. I can assure you that
I have not only found it interesting, but astounding. I have seldom had
the privilege of unraveling a mystery which was so cleverly rigged and
in which there are so many cross-currents of human passion."

"Then you think Lady Lee was doped?" asked Broadhurst.

"Doped?" interjected McGee quickly. "Why, Mr. Broadhurst, you remember
what the veterinary said. He couldn't find any signs of heroin or any
other dope they use."

"That's the devilish ingenuity of it all," shot out Kennedy suddenly,
holding up a little beaker in which there was some colorless fluid. "I
am merely going to show you now what can be done by the use of one of
the latest discoveries of physiological chemistry."

He took a syringe and, drawing back the plunger, filled it with the
liquid. With a slight jab of cocaine to make the little operation
absolutely painless, he injected the fluid into the livelier of our two
guinea-pigs.

"While you and