Something on the paper had come
off and had left a white mark on my shoulder. Craig looked puzzled
from me to the wall.
"Arsenic!" he cried.
He whipped out a pocket lens and looked at the paper. "This heavy
fuzzy paper is fairly loaded with it, powdered," he reported.
I looked, too. The powdered arsenic was plainly discernible. "Yes,
here it is," he continued, standing absorbed in thought. "But why
did it work so effectively?"
He sniffed as he had before. So did I. There was still the faint
smell of garlic. Kennedy paced the room. Suddenly, pausing by the
register, an idea seemed to strike him.
"Walter," he whispered, "come down cellar with me."
"Oh--be careful," cried Elaine, anxious for him.
"I will," he called back.
As he flashed his pocket electric bull's-eye about, his gaze fell
on the electric meter. He paused before it. In spite of the fact
that it was broad daylight, it was running. His face puckered.
"They are using no current at present in the house," he ruminated.
"Yet the meter is running."
He continued to examine the meter. Then he began to follow the
electric wires along. At last he discovered a place where they had
been tampered with and tapped by other wires.
"The work of the Clutching Hand!" he muttered.
Eagerly he followed the wires to the furnace and around to the
back.
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