“This is certainly my writing and my notepaper,” she murmured, “but I never wrote the letter!”

Craig looked from the letter to her keenly.  No one said a word.  For a moment Kennedy hesitated, thinking.

“Might I—­er—­see your room, Miss Dodge?” he asked at length.

Aunt Josephine frowned.  Bennett and I could not conceal our surprise.

“Why, certainly,” nodded Elaine, as she led the way upstairs.

It was a dainty little room, breathing the spirit of its mistress.  In fact it seemed a sort of profanation as we all followed in after her.  For a moment Kennedy stood still, then he carefully looked about.  At the side of the bed, near the head, he stooped and picked up something which he held in the palm of his hand.  I bent over.  Something gleamed in the morning sunshine—­some little thin pieces of glass.  As he tried deftly to fit the tiny little bits together, he seemed absorbed in thought.  Quickly he raised it to his nose, as if to smell it.

“Ethyl chloride!” he muttered, wrapping the pieces carefully in a paper and putting them into his pocket.

An instant later he crossed the room to the window and examined it.

“Look!” he exclaimed.

There, plainly, were marks of a jimmy which had been inserted near the lock to pry it open.

“Miss Dodge,” he asked, “might I—­might I trouble you to let me see your arm?”

Wonderingly she did so and Kennedy bent almost reverently over her plump arm examining it.

On it was a small dark discoloration, around which was a slight redness and tenderness.

“That,” he said slowly, “is the mark of a hypodermic needle.”

As he finished examining Elaine’s arm he drew the letter from his pocket.  Still facing her he said in a low tone, “Miss Dodge—­you did write this letter—­but under the influence of the new ‘twilight sleep.’”

We looked at one another amazed.

Outside, if we had been at the door in the hallway, we might have seen the sinister-faced Michael listening.  He turned and slipped quietly away.

“Why, Craig,” I exclaimed excitedly, “what do you mean?”

“Exactly what I say.  With Miss Dodge’s permission I shall show you.  By a small administration of the drug which will injure you in no way, Miss Dodge, I think I can bring back the memory of all that occurred to you last night.  Will you allow me?”

“Mercy, no!” protested Aunt Josephine.

Craig and Elaine faced each other as they had the day before when she had asked him whether the sudden warning of the Clutching Hand would intimidate him.  She advanced a step nearer.  Elaine trusted him.

“Elaine!” protested Aunt Josephine again.

“I want the experiment to be tried,” she said quietly.

A moment later Kennedy had placed her in a wing chair in the corner of the room.

“Now, Mrs. Dodge,” he said, “please bring me a basin and a towel.”