CHAPTER XVIII
ON THE TRAIL
"What's he up to now?" asked Bert of Jack, as the two stood in the room, looking at one another.
"Give up. We'll have to wait and see. It's something important though, to judge by Tom's actions."
"Yes, but an empty bottle! What can he hope to do with that for a clew?"
"I don't know. Leave it to Tom."
The latter came back in a little while, carrying several bottles, test tubes and an alcohol lamp.
"Well, for the class's sake!" cried Jack. "Are you going to give us a demonstration of the action of liquids on solids?"
"No, I'm going to prove that mind is superior to matter," laughed Tom.
"Say, it sounds good to hear that!" cried Jack. "You haven't laughed before in two weeks."
"Well, I feel a bit like it now," said Tom. "I'm beginning to get a glimpse of daylight in this darkness."
He arranged his material on the table in front of him, having removed the books and papers. Then, taking a bottle of some colorless liquid which he had brought from the college laboratory, he poured some into the apparently empty bottle he had first exhibited.
"What's that?" asked Bert.
"Sterilized water."
"Say, where did you find that bottle?" demanded Jack.
"In Farmer Appleby's barn," was the calm rejoinder. "I picked it up just by chance, but it may mean something big."
"What?" cried Jack. "You don't mean to say you've been around there?"
"Surely. Why not?"
"Why, he might think you wanted to do away with the rest of his horses."
"He didn't see me. I took care of that. Besides that's the only place where I can consistently look for clews. I was sure whoever poisoned the horses must have left some trace behind him, and this may be it."
"The empty bottle?" asked Bert incredulously.
"It may not be altogether empty," replied Tom. "That's what I'm going to test for. I saw traces of some powder on the sides, and I want to see if my suspicions are true."
"Then you think it contained——" began Jack.
"I'm not going to think anything until I finish this experiment," laughed Tom.
He shook the sterilized water about in the bottle, rinsing it well, and the contents he then poured into a test tube. This, after heating, he mixed with some other chemicals.
"Would you mind telling us what you're testing for?" asked Jack.
"Not at all," said Tom quietly. "I'm trying to see if this bottle had any cyanide of potassium in it."
"What! Cyanide?" gasped Bert.
"The stuff that killed the one horse and sickened the others?" asked
Jack.
"That's it. I may find it—I may not."
Tom poured a few drops of another chemical into the test tube. There was a reaction, and at once he uttered a cry:
"There it is!" he fairly shouted. "I'm on the right trail at last!
There was cyanide in the bottle!"
"There sure was," agreed Jack, who had seen the same test made in one of the classes a few days before.
"But I don't see what good that is," remarked Bert. "Everyone knew that cyanide was used on the horses. It's a common enough poison. Naturally whoever used it would have it in a bottle. Then you accidentally find the bottle in the stable, but that doesn't tell you who dropped it there."
"No, but this may," said Tom quietly, taking a small piece of paper from his pocket and smoothing it out on the table.
"What is it?" asked Jack, and then, before he could be answered he added. "Oh, I see, part of a druggist's label."
"Yes," admitted Tom. "It was near the bottle. It had been washed off, I imagine. I didn't show it to you at first, for I wanted to make sure of what the bottle had contained."
"And now that you're sure," began Bert, "I suppose———"
"I'm going to the druggist who sold this, and ask if he can remember who bought it," went on Tom, for, though the label from the bottle was torn, there was enough of it left to show part of the firm name. And, as there were but three drug shops in Elmwood, it was not difficult to pick out the one represented.
"We'll go with you!" exclaimed Jack. "Hurray, Tom! I do believe you're on the trail at last."
"Sure," assented Bert. "Let's go at once."
"I'd like to have you along," explained Tom, "but I think maybe I'd better go by myself. I've got to go at this thing quietly, and if three of us trooped in the drug store, and began asking questions, it would make a scene. Besides, lots of our fellows hang out there for soda, and they'd see us. I don't want this talked about until I get it a little more cleared up. I don't want you fellows to feel that———"
"Oh get out!" interrupted Jack. "You do just as you please, Tom, and we'll fill in, or play wherever you want us. This is your game, anyhow, though we want to help you all we can. Just say the word."
"That's good of you," assented our hero. "I think it would be best if I went alone. I'll tell you later what I find out. I think I'll go now. It isn't too late."
"It's after hours," said Bert.
"Well, I'll take a chance," decided Tom, and putting on his hat and coat he prepared to leave the dormitory, first having ascertained that the coast was clear.
Tom was half way down the corridor of the building where he and his chums roomed, and he was thinking of what might come from his prospective interview with the druggist, when, as he turned a dark corner, he ran full tilt into someone who was coming with some speed in the other direction.
"Wha—what's the matter! Who—who are you?" gasped Tom, when he had recovered his breath.
"I—I—who are you?" came the quick retort, and the voice was suspicious. Whoever it was evidently was not going to be caught by a prowling monitor.
"George Abbot!" gasped Tom, as he recognized the voice of his chum.
"What in the world is the rush? What's the hurry?"
"News! I've got great news!" cried George. "Cats! But you knocked the wind out of me all right. I—I was coming fast myself, I guess. Where are you going?"
"Out," replied Tom briefly. "But what's the news?"
"Better not go," advised George, speaking more composedly now.
"There's been a lot of fellows cutting for it to-night, and just before
I came in a bunch was rounded up by the proctor, and rushed to Merry's
office. I just escaped. Don't you take a chance, Tom."
"No, I guess I'd better not. But was that the news you had to tell me.
If it is, why——"
"It isn't that," cried George. "It's great. Sam Heller was just brought across the campus by old Farmer Appleby. He had him by the collar."
"Who had who by the collar?" demanded Tom, much excited now. "Did Sam have———"
"No, it was the other way around. Appleby had Sam, and he was making all sorts of threats."
"Who was; Sam?"
"No, the old farmer. Can't you understand? He had Sam, and he was begging to be let go."
"Sam was?"
"Sure."
"Say, George," advised Tom. "Calm down and tell me the whole thing. There may be something big in this. I guess I won't go out to-night after all," and, grasping the human question box by the arm, Tom led him back toward the room of the chums.