"Where is the little girl?" he now queried. "I must see her."
I had made up my mind to one thing. If the child said that I had been given a paper by her grandfather I would acknowledge it and produce the envelope. But if she had forgotten the fact or had been too frightened to notice it, I would preserve silence in regard to it a little longer, in the hope of being shown a way out of my difficulty.
I was therefore not sorry to hear him ask for the little girl.
"I take it that you are not anxious to remain here," he now remarked. "If you will give me your address and hold yourself in readiness to obey my summons, I can excuse you for the night."
For answer I held out my card, and seeing that I had no further excuse for lingering, was moving toward the door, when Dr. Bennett came hurriedly in.
"I have found something—" he began, and then paused with a quick glance in my direction, as if questioning the propriety of proceeding further with his discovery in my presence.
The coroner showed no such hesitation. Hastening to meet the old family physician, he said:
"You have found the bottle or only the paper in which the bottle was wrapped?"
Dr. Bennett drew him aside, and I saw what looked like a small cork pass between them.
"Was it in Mr. Gillespie's study you found this?" queried the coroner. "I thought I had thoroughly searched the study."