Kennedy dropped the bottle into his pocket.
“So that was the gang leader, ‘Whitecap,’” he remarked as we turned again to Broadway.
“Yes,” replied Mrs. Sutphen. “At certain hours, I believe he can be found at that cabaret selling this stuff, whatever it is, to anyone who comes properly introduced. The thing seems to be so open and notorious that it amounts to a scandal.”
We parted a moment later, Mrs. Sutphen and Miss McCann to go to the settlement house, Craig and I to continue our investigations.
“First of all, Walter,” he said as we swung aboard an uptown car, “I want to stop at the laboratory.”
In his den, which had been the scene of so many triumphs, Kennedy began a hasty examination of the tablets, powdering one and testing it with one chemical after another.
“What are they?” I asked at length when he seemed to have found the right reaction which gave him the clue.
“Happy dust,” he answered briefly.
“Happy dust?” I repeated, looking at him a moment in doubt as to whether he was joking or serious. “What is that?”
“The Tenderloin name for heroin—a comparatively new derivative of morphine. It is really morphine treated with acetic acid which renders it more powerful than morphine alone.”