From Whose Bourne

  CHAPTER XI.

  George Stratton sat in the court-room for a moment dazed, before hethought of the principal figure in the trial; then he rose to go to herside, but he found that Roland was there before him. He heard her say,"Get me a carriage quickly, and take me away from here."

  So Stratton went back to his hotel to meet his Chicago detective. Thelatter had nothing to report. He told him the number of drug stores hehad visited, but all without avail. No one had recognized the portrait.

  "All right," said Stratton; "then you will just have to go ahead untilyou find somebody who does. It is, I believe, only a question of timeand perseverance."

  Next morning he arose late. He looked over the report of the trial inthe morning paper, and then, turning to the leader page, read withrising indignation the following editorial:--

  "THE BRENTON CASE.

  "The decision of yesterday shows the glorious uncertainty that attendsthe finding of the average American jury. If such verdicts are to berendered, we may as well blot out from the statute-book all punishmentfor all crimes in which the evidence is largely circumstantial. If evera strong case was made out against a human being it was the case of theprosecution in the recent trial. If ever there was a case in which thedefence was deplorably weak, although ably conducted, it was the casethat was concluded yesterday. Should we, then, be prepared to say thatcircumstantial evidence will not be taken by an American jury as groundfor the conviction of a murderer? The chances are that, if we draw thisconclusion, we shall be entirely wrong. If a man stood in the dock, inthe place of the handsome young woman who occupied it yesterday, hewould to-day have been undoubtedly convicted of murder. The conclusion,then, to be arrived at seems to be that, unless there is the directproof of murder against a pretty woman, it is absolutely impossibleto get the average jury of men to convict her. It would seem that thesooner we get women on juries, especially where a woman is on trial, thebetter it will be for the cause of justice."

  Then in other parts of the paper there were little items similar to this--

  "If Mrs. Brenton did not poison her husband, then who did?"

  That afternoon George Stratton paid a visit to Mrs. Brenton. He hadhoped she had not seen the paper in question, but he hoped in vain. Hefound Mrs. Brenton far from elated with her acquittal.

  "I would give everything I possess," she said, "to bring the culprit tojustice."

  After a talk on that momentous question, and when George Stratton heldher hand and said good-bye, she asked him--

  "When do you go to Chicago?"

  "Madam," he said, "I leave for Chicago the moment I find out whopoisoned William Brenton."

  She answered sadly--

  "You may remain a long time in Cincinnati."

  "In some respects," said Stratton, "I like Cincinnati better thanChicago."

  "You are the first Chicago man I ever heard say that," she replied.

  "Ah, that was because they did not know Cincinnati as I do."

  "I suppose you must have seen a great deal of the town, but I mustconfess that from now on I should be very glad if I never saw Cincinnatiagain. I would like to consult with you," she continued, "about the bestway of solving this mystery. I have been thinking of engaging some ofthe best detectives I can get. I suppose New York would be the place."

  "No; Chicago," answered the young man.

  "Well, then, that is what I wanted to see you about. I would like to getthe very best detectives that can be had. Don't you think that, if theywere promised ample reward, and paid well during the time they wereworking on the case, we might discover the key to this mystery?"

  "I do not think much of our detective system," answered Stratton,"although I suppose there is something in it, and sometimes they managein spite of themselves to stumble on the solution of a crime. Still, Ishall be very glad indeed to give you what advice I can on the subject.I may say I have constituted myself a special detective in this case,and that I hope to have the honour of solving the problem."

  "You are very good, indeed," she answered, "and I must ask you to let mebear the expense."

  "Oh, the paper will do that. I won't be out of pocket at all," saidStratton.

  "Well, I hardly know how to put it; but, whether you are successful ornot, I feel very grateful to you, and I hope you will not be offended atwhat I am going to say. Now, promise me that you won't!"

  "I shall not be offended," he answered. "It is a little difficult tooffend a Chicago newspaper man, you know."

  "Now, you mustn't say anything against the newspaper men, for, in spiteof the hard things that some of them have said about me, I like them."

  "Individually or collectively?"

  "I feel very grateful to you."]

  "I am afraid I must say individually. You said you wouldn't be offended,so after your search is over you must let me----. The labourer is worthyof his hire, or I should say, his reward--you know what I mean. Ipresume that a young man who earns his living on the daily press isnot necessarily wealthy."

  "Why, Mrs. Brenton, what strange ideas you have of the world! Wenewspaper men work at the business merely because we like it. It isn'tat all for the money that's in it."

  "Then you are not offended at what I have said?"

  "Oh, not in the least. I may say, however, that I look for a higherreward than money if I am successful in this search."

  "Yes, I am sure you do," answered the lady, innocently. "If yousucceed in this, you will be very famous."

  "Exactly; it's fame I'm after," said Stratton, shaking her hand oncemore, and taking his leave.

  When he reached his hotel, he found the Chicago detective waiting forhim.

  "Well, old man," he said, "anything new?"

  "Yes, sir. Something very new."

  "What have you found out?"

  "Everything."

  "Very well, let me have it."

  "I found out that this man bought, on December 10th, thirty grains ofmorphia. He had this morphia put up in five-grain capsules. He boughtthis at the drug store on the corner of Blank Street and Nemo Avenue."

  "Good gracious!" answered Stratton. "Then to get morphia he must havehad a physician's certificate. Did you find who the physician was thatsigned the certificate?"

  "My dear sir," said the Chicago man, "this person is himself aphysician, unless I am very much mistaken. I was told that this was theportrait of Stephen Roland. Am I right?"

  "That is the name."

  "Well, then, he is a doctor himself. Not doing a very large practice, itis true, but he is a physician. Did you not know that?"

  "Here's the detailed report."]

  "No," said Stratton; "how stupid I am! I never thought of asking theman's occupation."

  "Very well, if that is what you wanted to know, here's the detailedreport of my investigation."

  When the man left, Stratton rubbed his hands.

  "Now, Mr. Stephen Roland, I have you," he said.