Kennedy handed his card to the boy who presided over a sort of swinging gate in the outer office.

The door to Shattuck's inner office happened to be open and we could see him. Consequently it was not possible for him to send out word that he was not in.

It was a rather nettled office-boy who returned to us.

"For what, may I ask, am I indebted to you for this visit?" inquired Shattuck with almost insulting bruskness as the boy stood at the door, admitting us, then carefully closed the door to the outer office.

I felt angry at the tone, but Kennedy kept his temper admirably.

"I suppose," began Craig, clearing his throat and speaking as deliberately as ever Shattuck did, "that you know the story about Mrs. Lathrop?"

"Some one on the street called my attention to it," Shattuck prevaricated, rather than admit interest.

"I thought you might be in a position to explain it—at least to throw some light on it," pursued Kennedy, directly. "I'm quite interested, naturally."

"Explain it?" flared Shattuck, eagerly seizing on something that would divert the main issue. "Explain it? Why, you and Doyle and the newspapers"—nodding insultingly at me—"ought to be able to do that best, don't you think? It's you all that have caused a great deal of trouble. Judging by what I read and hear, you know more about our affairs in this case than we do ourselves. I'd suggest that perhaps our positions should be reversed. I might appeal to you for information, rather than have you coming around here appealing to me."

Not only was it what he said, but it was even more the tone and manner in which he said it that seemed to rub Kennedy the wrong way. As for myself, I must confess that I was boiling over at the bravado of the man.

I would have come back with a quick remark—and probably have exposed my hand and done exactly what Shattuck expected, for there was no denying that he was clever with a gambler's cleverness and nerve.

It was not so with Kennedy. For a moment he paused, as though checking a first remark; then he spoke in the same measured and considered tones as at the start.

"I can tell you, Shattuck, that I don't like the attitude either you or Mrs. Wilford assume."

Shattuck merely shrugged superciliously, and would have turned to some papers on his desk, had not Kennedy possessed one of those compelling personalities that demand that you hear them out, whether you like it or not.

"Mrs. Wilford seems to have assumed a sort of passive attitude toward me," Kennedy resumed.

"You don't expect her to help you?" inquired Shattuck.

"As for yourself," continued Craig, unperturbed, "I am frankly of the opinion, Shattuck, that your attitude is quite one of open hostility. I would not presume to dictate to either of you how you should order your conduct—but—it seems to me that, under the circumstances, it might not be unwise to take care not to prejudice your cases, you know."

Shattuck involuntarily shot a quick glance from under his heavy eyebrows at Kennedy. But not even Shattuck's cleverness could read anything in Craig's face.

What is it that this man knows? Quite apparently that was the sudden thought working back of Shattuck's beetling brows.

"For instance," continued Kennedy, as though determined to have his way in the matter and ram the words down Shattuck's throat, "I am sure you know of that Calabar bean which I—or rather Mr. Jameson—discovered in Mr. Wilford's office—not very far away from here, I see."

Shattuck's face was a study. Not once did the man lose his poise. It was not that.

"Well, it raises some interesting problems. I won't say that I haven't settled them. But, for the sake of argument, let us take the circumstance—just in itself."

Shattuck calmly lighted a cigarette and deliberately inhaled it, bored.

"Of course," Craig went on, after a pause, "we all know that Doctor Lathrop is a doctor and hence likely to dabble in almost anything relating to his profession. Perhaps he knew of the existence and the properties of the Calabar bean. Quite certainly, I should say. No doubt he has used the drug—physostigmine. In fact, he tells me he has. Very well, then. So much for that.

"Take yourself, for example. I think I recall seeing many African trophies in that very cozy den of yours. Now, the Calabar bean is well known in Africa, not only in the Calabar, on the west coast, but in many other parts of the continent that travelers and tourists visit. So, you see, although at first sight such a bean might seem to have very little to do with a prosperous broker on Broad Street, it is not impossible that a judge or jury—or a detective—might see a connection."

Kennedy paused to watch the effect of the home thrust. I cannot say that Shattuck even winced. He was a man with too much control over himself for that. I longed for some of the psychological laboratory instruments that will reveal, often, what a nerve-strong exterior hides.

"But, quite more important still," continued Kennedy, "is the fact that the bean, or rather its derivative, physostigmine—which we know was the poison that killed Wilford—is known and used by oculists for its curious effect on the pupils. Now, from what I have learned on unimpeachable authority about Mrs. Wilford as a girl, her father, Honore Chappelle, a Frenchman, was a well-known oculist. He had no sons and often used to wish that his only child had not been a girl. For a time he had some vague idea, I believe, that his daughter might take up his place in the business. However, that was merely fanciful. As Honora grew to womanhood and tasted the advantages of the not small fortune her father had piled up, the social life appealed to her. And yet, in the girlhood days, who shall say she did not learn something of the Calabar bean, of the drug, and of its properties? It would be most unlikely if she did not."

Kennedy paused for a moment, leaving Shattuck almost speechless and hiding a secret fear.

"You can draw your own conclusions from what I have just said," finished Craig. "Sometimes, you know, actions speak louder than words."

Shattuck had risen, almost angrily as two red spots of passion appeared on his face over the cheek-bones.

"Don't you think you have done enough, hounding Mrs. Wilford with your confounded science?" he demanded.

"I cannot say," replied Kennedy, coolly, reaching for his hat and deliberately turning away. "I am telling you this only for your own benefit. Good morning, sir."

Just what Kennedy was attempting I began to understand as we closed the door to the hall and turned again to the elevator. The seeking out of Shattuck was quite in keeping with the plan of campaign Craig had mapped out at the start.

I saw that he was counting on planting something that would make Shattuck fear for Honora, if not for himself. And, it was evident that behind his bravado Shattuck did have a fear for Honora.