“That is precisely what I think,” Carter said more forcibly. “I am convinced of it by their similarity and the mysterious means employed, which show plainly that the knave back of the whole business is an exceedingly capable and well-informed rascal. He must be an expert in drugs, or have discovered some chemical compound the quality and effect of which are not known by other physicians and scientists.”
“Do you suspect that Doctor Devoll is the criminal?” Chick inquired.
“I do not like his looks, his conduct in these cases, or the position he took when I questioned him.”
“But it seems really improbable that a man of his prominence and profession would be engaged in such knavery,” Chick argued.
“That’s what every one would say, and it would be deucedly difficult to convince them of his guilt,” Carter replied. “That could be done only by producing positive evidence of it.”
“Very true.”
“It may be equally difficult to find that evidence,” Carter added. “It must be found, nevertheless, assuming that I am right. In no other way can we make good.”
“True again,” Chick admitted.
“I was very careful, therefore, not to betray that I suspected him. I pretended to swallow all that he handed out, and let it go at that. One word more, now, and I will have covered all of the ground. That relates to the Todd murder.”
“What about it?”