room, and then answered himself impressively. “Her medicine!”
“Do you mean that the murderer introduced the strychnine into her tonic?” I cried.
“There was no need to introduce it. It was already there—in the mixture. The strychnine that killed Mrs. Inglethorp was the identical strychnine prescribed by Dr. Wilkins. To make that clear to you, I will read you an extract from a book on dispensing which I found in the Dispensary of the Red Cross Hospital at Tadminster:
“‘The following prescription
in some way, Mrs. Inglethorp got hold of it by mistake. But I don’t at all see how it could have been done. The whole thing is absurd and ridiculous to the last degree.”
“Still you are right in one thing. It is always wise to suspect everybody until you can prove logically, and to your own satisfaction,