"He has been up to a fine piece of double crossing," I replied. "Now all I can tell you is that Wilford hired him to watch Mrs. Wilford. He faked a good deal—meetings with Vance Shattuck and that sort of thing. She gave up to him to suppress some of the fakes. But—well, I'd like to know more. Doyle, I think, has the fellow right. Now be careful. Don't let either of them know I tipped you off—and remember, your typewriter is broken until I tell you it's all right to go ahead."
"Thanks for the tip, Jameson," said Brooks, as I bustled away. "I'll look it up—and let you know."
"Have you found anything yet?" I inquired, half an hour later, as I entered the laboratory and found Kennedy still deeply engaged in the study of the materials which had been brought over by Doctor Leslie.
As I watched him I saw that he was at work over a quantitative analysis, rather than searching blindly for something as yet unknown.
"Yes," he replied, frankly, to my surprise, though, on second thought, I recalled that only when he was in doubt was Kennedy secretive. "I have. What about you?"
"The hint from Leslie was right," I replied, and as briefly as I could I repeated what Miss Balcom had told me.
Kennedy listened attentively, and when I had finished merely remarked, "That explains some things that I haven't cleared up yet."
"Now tell me what you have found," I urged. "I'm very eager to know."
"It was as I thought," he replied, slowly, "when I talked first with Leslie and Doyle. Wilford was not killed by atropin."
"Then what was it?" I asked, mystified.