“‘I was about to ask a question; but then I remembered that you and Mr. Dabbs had intimated a wish not to be questioned.’
“‘Oh, not at all, sir; you misunderstand us entirely. We don’t prohibit questions—we only decline to be examined like an ordinary witness in court. Ask as many questions as you please—we’ll only answer such as we choose.’
“Then Mr. Tadpoddle threw himself back in his chair, put the small eye on duty, and waited for the question.
“‘If you have any communication to make in regard to the discoveries you have made, I should like to hear them now!’
“‘Just so, Mr. Wallingford, no doubt you would; and that is what brought us here to-day. I am well aware of the interest you feel in Miss Bramlett’s case, and so told my remarkable sister, and she also appreciated the situation very much. By the by, Dabbs, don’t you think we had better tell Mr. Wallingford what my remarkable sister knows about the case?’
“‘I think we had, Mr. Tadpoddle; but let them be told after the other facts have been related—nothing like beginning at the right end, you know. There are two ways to tell anything—one right way, and one wrong way; always commence a story at the right end, you see. What your sister knows comes last, in order to make the chain of evidence complete.’
“‘Ah, yes, Dabbs, I perceive now that you are right. Well, you tell Mr. Wallingford about the other things, and when it comes to my sister’s part, then let me in.’
“I was losing my self-possession, and felt as if I must do something rash very soon; I think I should have hurled a lump of coal at Mr. Tadpoddle’s little gourd head, but my attention was diverted to Mr. Dabbs, who began to take something from his pocket-book.
“‘This little parcel, Mr. Wallingford, is a dose of strychnine similar to the one that killed Miss Bramlett’s little brother. Well, what of that? is the question that naturally would come up in your mind. You’ll observe, Mr. Wallingford, that I am only drawing an inference as to ideas, etc., which would be likely to present themselves. Well, what if that is strychnine? you say. Very good! I reply, The deceased was murdered with strychnine. Some one administered the poison. Who? ah! that’s the question. I answer without hesitation: Miss Bramlett.’
“‘Tis false!’ exclaimed Harry, as he made at the detective with eyes flashing with rage. ‘I’ll choke the breath from the villain’s lungs who dares to accuse Miss Bramlett.’