"Wait a minute, Hardy. Let's go slowly. Now, here are two ways to look at this thing. I told you about the clairvoyante first, because that first came to my mind as the inevitable explanation. But, suppose, instead of a professional clairvoyante or beauty doctor, some friend or--" Stone set his teeth, but went on steadily, "or some one in the household, planned all this scheme, and pretended to get a powder that would accomplish this transformation, gave it to the unsuspecting lady to take by herself, and in reality this powder was the aconite." Hardy jumped. "Then Miss Stuart----" he began. "Ah," and Stone's face was white and his voice like cutting steel, "_Why_ Miss Stuart? Why not Miss Frayne, who listened at the door? Why not Estelle, who knew all her mistress' secrets? Why not Haviland, who is openly enjoying his present responsible position as man of affairs? Why not Count Charlier, whose crafty cunning shows on his face? Of course, _also_, why not Miss Stuart, but why _necessarily_ Miss Stuart?" "Well, she has run away, you know----" "So she has, because of unjust and unfounded suspicions! When clues point directly to her, I shall admit them, but when they may equally well point to half a dozen others, I shall patiently investigate them and learn the truth. Now, I ask of you, Hardy, as man to man, _not_ to favor Miss Stuart unduly, but to give her a fair show, and remember her lonely position and her timid nature." Hardy looked furtively at Fleming Stone, whose eyes were downcast and fastened on some papers he was holding. "Count on me, Mr. Stone. I am at your orders. I subscribe to your theories, and I will do exactly what you tell me, and no more or less." "Good, Hardy, and thank you. Now, look at these papers. They are the ones that contained the fatal powder. See, this paraffin one was inside; then one of tin-foil, then one of rather heavy writing-paper." "That doesn't look altogether like a clairvoyante's work." "Why not? It does to me. They are mighty careful to do up their goods in an elaborate manner to impress their customers. But, mind you, I don't for a moment suspect this clairvoyante individual of intended murder. Either the aconite was added to the parcel from the clairvoyante, or the whole affair was concocted by the murderer and under pretense of its having come from the clairvoyante." "H'm," Hardy was clearly beyond his depth. "So," went on Stone, "we must deduce what we can from these papers. What do you see peculiar about them?" "Just plain little old nothing," Hardy declared after a good scrutiny. "I see, as you remarked, three papers, folded similarly, and of nearly the same size. What do you see?"