"The more I think of what I saw at the Trocadero," I remarked,
"the more I wonder if Miss Giles has been seeking to win Cranston
herself."

"In large-enough doses and repeated often enough," continued
Kennedy, "I suppose the toxic effect of the drug might be to
produce insanity. At any rate, if we are going to do anything, it
might better be done at once. They are all out there now. If we
act to-night, surely we shall have the best chance of making the
guilty person betray himself."

Kennedy telephoned for a fast touring-car, and in half an hour,
while he gathered some apparatus together, the car was before the
door. In it he placed a couple of light silk-rope ladders, some
common wooden wedges, and an instrument which resembled a
surveyor's transit with two conical horns sticking out at the
ends.

We made the trip out of New York and up the Boston post-road,
following the route which Cranston and Miss Giles must have taken
some hours before us. In the town of Montrose, Kennedy stopped
only long enough to get a bite to eat and to study up in the roads
in the vicinity.

It was long after midnight when we struck up into the country. The
night was very dark, thick, and foggy. With the engine running as
muffled as possible and the lights dimmed, Kennedy quietly jammed
on the brakes as we pulled up along the side of the road.