“It was between ninety and a hundred. By nine-thirty I had given all of my medicines....”

“Did she have any medicine?”

“Yes, Dr. Hoffbein, she did. She had a prescription of Dr. Sterling, Senior’s. A ... a sleeping potion.”

“Do you know what it was?”

“No, sir. It came up from the pharmacy filled.”

“Wasn’t the duplicate on her chart?”

“It was pheno-barbital,” Cub Sterling cut in raspingly.

The girl hesitated. She seemed to have lost the thread of her thoughts.

“Go ahead with the story, child,” Dr. MacArthur soothed.

She sat silent a moment and then continued: