"Perhaps he intended it for Mag," suggested another. "If he's tired of the girl he may be trying to fix her."
"Pshaw! He doesn't have to resort to such measures as that! What could a poor girl do to injure Jim Denton? No, Tyler, you'll have to look somewhere else for your poisoner, I reckon," said one of the oldest men in the whole establishment.
"Who gave you the box in the first place?" asked the detective of Sam. "I mean, who told you to give it to Miss Marvin?"
Sam spoke up promptly, for he had nothing to hide.
"A kid gave it to me at the door—a messenger boy—who said he was in a tearing hurry."
"Did you sign for it?" asked the detective, looking sharply at the boy.
"Naw, I didn't sign nothin'; he didn't have no ticket."
"Then he wasn't a messenger at all," was the reply, "and you are a big dunce, Sam Watkins, that you didn't know it!"
"Well, I thought it was straight, anyhow," whispered the boy. "How was I to guess that some one was tryin' to pisen Miss Marvin?"
Ben Tyler took the box carefully and replaced the wrapper; then, telling Sam to follow, he went straight to Mr. Denton's office.