“And we are beaten to a frazzle.”
“Oh, no, not quite as bad as that,” the detective quickly protested. “We are not done brown, Chick, by any means.”
“What do you mean? Do you suspect Dorson?”
“Yes, certainly. It was he who made the crime possible. He was coöperating with the rascals who did the more hazardous work.”
“That’s what I suspected.”
“It’s as plain as twice two, Chick, in view of what we know about the girls found unconscious in the hospital grounds. The handkerchief used by Dorson was impregnated with the same mysterious substance with which the girls were temporarily overcome. Obviously, too, the crook who got the pearls administered the antidote or Mrs. Thurlow would not have revived so quickly.”
“The same antidote that restored the four girls.”
“Undoubtedly. Those were experimental cases, Chick, as sure as I’m a foot high, in anticipation of this job. Doctor Devoll was trying out his narcotic, so to speak.”
“You still think he is the chief culprit, the man behind the gun?”
“He was in every instance the man who revived the girls, the physician who appeared to perfectly understand each case.”