mysterious manner was puzzling.

"Not yet, but I will," Ferguson hesitated. "The first thing was to
establish that a crime had really been committed."

Kent bent down and sniffed again at the handkerchief to which a
faint fruity aroma still clung.

"How did you discover that?" he asked.

"Dr. McLane and I took the handkerchief to a laboratory and the
chemist found from the number of particles of capsules in the
handkerchief, that at least two capsules - or double the usual
dose - had been crushed by Turnbull and the fumes inhaled by him;
with fatal results."

"Hold on," cautioned Kent. "In the flurry of the moment, Turnbull
may have accidentally put two capsules in the handkerchief, meaning
only to use one."

"Mr. Kent," the detective spoke impressively, "that wasn't Turnbull's
handkerchief."

"Not his own handkerchief!" exclaimed Kent. "Then, are you sure
that Turnbull used it?"

"Yes; that fact is established by reputable witnesses; Dr. Stone,
Mr. Clymer, and the deputy marshal," Ferguson spoke with increasing
earnestness. "That is a woman's handkerchief - look at it."