"It would seem to."
There was another pause. The secret agent regarded Warwick intently.
"Think carefully before answering the question I am now about to ask. What is there in the doctor's possession that you have seen, or have even heard hinted at—that is in any way remarkable or unique?"
Warwick pondered, but finally shook his head.
"Take your time—think deliberately. What does he own that would excite the cupidity of persons of much power and great wealth?"
"I know of nothing," replied the young man.
"It would scarcely be a thing to be measured by a money value," encouraged the secret agent. "It might be, and the fact that the doctor's papers were once searched seems to indicate it rather strongly—a document."
Again Warwick shook his head.
"As I have said, Morse is not of a confiding nature. He keeps his affairs to himself."
Ashton-Kirk laid his half-burned cigar upon a bronze shell; and as he did so his eyes fell once more upon the drawing of the crowned woman. A sudden tightening about his mouth showed a fresh interest; taking up the drawing he examined it with eager attention. At length he said: