“Yes. Just about that,” Waldmere nodded. “Where is it?” “In my desk.” “Has it been there most of the time?” “Yes. It is in one of the small drawers.” “I inferred so,” Nick said, a bit dryly. “May I see it?” “Certainly.” Before the Englishman could open the small interior drawer toward which he reached, however, Nick checked him by saying abruptly, as if suddenly hit with another idea: “Stay! I don’t think I really care to see it. Instead, Waldmere, I would like to question your butler and the two maids.” “Very well.” “Which of them, Mrs. Waldmere, has charge of this room?” Nick added, turning to her. “I refer to the sweeping and dusting.” “Minerva Grand,” she replied. “The general housemaid?” “Yes. She is a very sweet and dainty girl.” “Call in both maids and the butler,” said Nick, turning to Waldmere again. “I will question each of them. Do not interfere with me, nor volunteer any suggestion if I give either of them an order.” Waldmere looked very much puzzled, but he bowed without replying, and rang for the butler. Patterson came in with the two maids a little later. He was stiff and sedate, the type of man who could not commit a crime if he tried. He presented a marked contrast to the two girls, both of whom were pretty and only just turned twenty. Della Martin, the elder, was a dark, capable-looking girl, who responded with manifest confidence to the detective’s questions, evincing no sign of fear. The other, Minerva Grand, was the more attractive. She was slender and dainty, with a face like that of a doll. Her complexion was a clear pink and white, her eyes wonderfully blue, her mouth well formed and sensitive. An abundance of wavy yellow hair appeared like a halo over her winsome countenance. A more artless and innocent-looking girl could not be imagined, and her deportment was in keeping with her looks. Nick Carter questioned all three, but his inquiries were really only a blind, to dispel misgivings on the part of either of them, and neither Chick nor Patsy could fathom at what he was driving. After several minutes, however, Nick turned to Minerva Grand and said pleasantly: “I wish you would bring me a cup of hot water with a spoon in it. Have it quite hot.” “Yes, sir, I will,” she replied, bowing demurely. “I want to dissolve an alkali to make a chemical test.” “Yes, sir, please you,” said Minerva, hastening to obey. “You may go, Patterson, and you,” Nick added, addressing the others. “If you are wanted again, I will ring.” Both withdrew, and Waldmere was about to ask a question. He caught a forbidding gleam in the detective’s eyes, however, and he said nothing. Nick fished out part of a lozenge from his pocket, a bit of confectionery that he happened to have. He held it in the palm of his hand when Minerva returned with a cup of steaming water, containing a silver spoon. “Hold the spoon a moment, my girl,” said Nick, taking the cup from her. Minerva removed it without speaking.