He spent an hour of close examination without hitting upon anything which could serve as an opening to him.
Finally he engaged in conversation a well-known kennelman of a prominent breeder, leading it to the poisoning of the dogs by degrees.
“Yes,” said the kennelman, in answer to Patsy’s question, “there was a nasty case of poisoning here. You can bet that it was outside of the bunch.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Patsy.
“I mean it was none of the doggy men that did it, and it wasn’t for any show reasons. A breeder, or a man in the business, thinks too much of a dog to do him in that way.
“Setters are not my line. We were only competing in the fox-terriers. So we hadn’t especial interest in setters. But I felt as bad over the deaths of those setters as if they had been the dogs I had brought up and cared for.
“It’s a mean man that can kill a dog, anyhow—dogs as gentle and sweet-tempered as setters are.
“So I say some one was trying to get square on the lady that owned those dogs, and for reasons away from this show.
“Say, if they ever get down to the truth of it, see if it don’t turn out to be a woman that did the business.”
This was a new idea to Patsy, and he stood still thinking of it. Suddenly a voice fell on his ear.