"Dot's vat he dit, und I bed you anyt'ing vat I got!" cried Carl.
"He doped Matt's drinking-water," averred Chub, "and that's the straight of it. I move we go upstairs and lay the tin-horn by the heels. If he's doing that sort of business he ought to be in the calaboose."
"We'll go up and have a talk with him," said Trueman. "Unless he can give a good explanation of what this bottle of stuff is for, we'll walk him over to the jail and land him behind the bars."
A hurried trip was made to the second floor, but Trueman and the boys were too late. Slocum had got someone to open the door for him and he was gone.
"Ach, plazes!" said Carl angrily; "ve ought to haf pud some ropes on him so dot he couldn't ged avay. Dot's vere ve vas lame, Chub. Now how ve going to findt oudt vere iss Modor Matt?"
"Slocum, guilty or innocent, wouldn't be able to help us find Matt," spoke up Trueman. "The thing for us to do is to hunt up a doctor and find out just what effect this cannibis indica has on a person. It may be that we're on the wrong track entirely."
There was a doctor in the office building next the hotel. His name was Davis. He was an old doctor, but a knowing one.
"Cannibis indica," said he, "is a drug that has a very powerful effect upon the brain. It is not dangerous if taken in a small amount. A small dose of it would not induce a state of lethargy, but would be more apt to unhinge a person's mind and cause him to do things of which he would have no remembrance when the effect wore away."
"How long would the effect last?" asked Trueman anxiously.
"That would depend altogether upon the amount that was taken. In this case, two or three days, perhaps."