“Yes, go on,” urged Kent, catching the man's excitement. “You gave it to Mrs. Brewster—”
“No, sir; I didn't; I left the box on the hall table,” Grimes cleared his throat nervously. “I dunno who picked up that box o' poison, Mr. Kent; so help me God, I dunno!”
Kent thought rapidly. “Have you told any one of this?” he asked.
Grimes nodded. “Only one person,” he admitted. “I spoke to Miss Barbara last night as she was going to bed.” Grimes laid a hot hand on Kent's and glanced fearfully around the room. “Bend nearer, sir; I don't want none other to hear me. Just before I got that knockout blow in the library last night, I heard the swish o' skirts—and Miss Barbara was the only living person who knew I knew about the poison.”
Kent stared in stupefaction at the butler. He was aroused by a cold voice from the doorway.
“We are waiting for you, Kent,” and Colonel McIntyre stood aside to let him pass from the room ahead of him, then without a backward glance at the injured butler, he closed and locked the bedroom door.
CHAPTER XVIII. THE FATAL PERIOD
As Kent walked into the library he found Colonel McIntyre by his side; the latter's even breathing gave no indication of the haste he had made down the staircase to catch up with Kent.
Detective Ferguson hardly noted their arrival, his attention being given wholly to the examination of the Venetian casket which had played such an important part in the drama of the night before. The casket and its companion piece stood on either side of the room near a window recess. The long straight shape of the high boxes on their graceful base gave no indication of the use to which they had been put in ancient days, but made attractive as well as unique pieces of furniture.