“How dreadful!” said Johnson in a hushed voice. “Thank God they’ve found it out in time! Mr. Broad,” he said earnestly, “I hope you will tell Ella Bennett that she can rely on me for every penny I possess to establish her brother’s innocence. I suppose there will be a respite and a new trial? If there is, the very best lawyers must be employed.” “She’s here. Won’t you come in and see her?” “Here?” Johnson’s jaw dropped. “I had no idea,” he stammered. “Come in.” Broad returned to the girl. “Here is a friend of yours who has turned up—Mr. Johnson.” The philosopher crossed the room with quick, nervous strides, and held out both his hands to the girl. “I’m so sorry, Miss Bennett,” he said, “so very, very sorry! It must be dreadful for you, dreadful! Can I do anything?” She shook her head, tears of gratitude in her eyes. “It is very sweet of you, Mr. Johnson. You’ve done so much for Ray, and Inspector Elk was telling me that you had offered him a position in your office.” Johnson shook his head. “It is nothing. I’m very fond of Ray, and he really has splendid capabilities. Once we get him out of this mess, I’ll put him on his feet again. Your father doesn’t know? Thank God for that!” “I wish this news hadn’t got into the papers,” she said, when he told her how he had learnt of the happening. “Silenski, of course,” said Broad. “A motion picture publicity man would use his own funeral to get a free par. How are you feeling in your new position, Johnson?” he asked, to distract the girl’s mind from the tragic thoughts which were oppressing her. Johnson smiled. “I’m bewildered. I can’t understand why poor Mr. Maitland did this. But I had my first Frog warning to-day; I feel almost important,” he said. From a worn pocket-case he extracted a sheet of paper. It contained only three words; “You are next!” and bore the familiar sign manual of the Frog. “I don’t know what harm I have done to these people, but I presume that it is something fairly bad, for within ten minutes of getting this note, the porter brought me my afternoon tea. I took one sip and it tasted so bitter that I washed my mouth out with a disinfectant.” “When was this?” “Yesterday,” said Johnson. “This morning I had the analysis—I had the tea bottled and sent off at once to an analytical chemist. It contained enough hydrocyanic acid to kill a hundred people. The chemist cannot understand how I could have taken the sip I did without very serious consequences. I am going to put the matter in the hands of the police to-day.” The front door opened, and Elk came in. “What is the news?” asked the girl eagerly, rising to meet him. “Fine!” said Elk. “You needn’t worry at all, Miss Bennett. That Gordon man can certainly move. I guess he’s in Gloucester by now, sleeping in the best bed in the city.” “But do you _know_ he’s in Gloucester?” she asked stubbornly.