The Poisoned Pen

The Poisoned Pen
by Arthur B. Reeve
1911-13
CONTENTS
I THE POISONED PEN
II THE YEGGMAN
III THE GERM OF DEATH
IV THE FIREBUG
V THE CONFIDENCE KING
VI THE SAND-HOG
VII THE WHITE SLAVE
VIII THE FORGER
IX THE UNOFFICIAL SPY
X THE SMUGGLER
XI THE INVISIBLE RAY
XII THE CAMPAIGN GRAFTER

I
THE POISONED PEN

Kennedy's suit-case was lying open on the bed, and he was literally
throwing things into it from his chiffonier, as I entered after a hurried
trip up-town from the Star office in response to an urgent message from
him.
"Come, Walter," he cried, hastily stuffing in a package of clean laundry
without taking off the wrapping-paper, "I've got your suit-case out.
Pack up whatever you can in five minutes. We must take the six o'clock
train for Danbridge."
I did not wait to hear any more. The mere mention of the name of the
quaint and quiet little Connecticut town was sufficient. For Danbridge
was on everybody's lips at that time. It was the scene of the now
famous Danbridge poisoning case - a brutal case in which the pretty
little actress, Vera Lytton, had been the victim.
"I've been retained by Senator Adrian Willard," he called from his
room, as I was busy packing in mine. The Willard family believe that
that young Dr. Dixon is the victim of a conspiracy - or at least Alma
Willard does, which comes to the same thing, and - well, the senator
called me up on long-distance and offered me anything I would name
in reason to take the case. Are you ready? Come on, then. We've simply
got to make that train."
As we settled ourselves in the smoking-compartment of the Pullman,
which for some reason or other we had to ourselves, Kennedy spoke
again for the first time since our frantic dash across the city to catch the
train.
"Now let us see, Walter," he began. "We've both read a good deal about
this case in the papers. Let's try to get our knowledge in an orderly
shape before we tackle the actual case itself."
"Ever been in Danbridge?" I asked.
"Never," he replied. "What sort of place is it?"
"Mighty interesting," I answered; "a combination of old New England

and new, of ancestors and factories, of wealth and poverty, and above
all it is interesting for its colony of New-Yorkers - what shall I call it? -
a literary-artistic-musical combination, I guess."
"Yes," he resumed, "I thought as much. Vera Lytton belonged to the
colony. A very talented girl, too - you remember her in 'The Taming of
the New Woman' last season? Well, to get back to the facts as we know
them at present.
"Here is a girl with a brilliant future on the stage discovered by her
friend, Mrs. Boncour, in convulsions - practically insensible - with a
bottle of headache-powder and a jar of ammonia on her dressing-table.
Mrs. Boncour sends the maid for the nearest doctor, who happens to be
a Dr. Waterworth. Meanwhile she tries to restore Miss Lytton, but with
no result. She smells the ammonia and then just tastes the
headache-powder, a very foolish thing to do, for by the time Dr.
Waterworth arrives he has two patients."
"No," I corrected, "only one, for Miss Lytton was dead when he arrived,
according to his latest statement."
"Very well, then - one. He arrives, Mrs. Boncour is ill, the maid knows
nothing at all about it, and Vera Lytton is dead. He, too, smells the
ammonia, tastes the headache-powder - just the merest trace - and then
he has two patients, one of them himself. We must see him, for his
experience must have been appalling. How he ever did it I can't
imagine, but he saved both himself and Mrs. Boncour from poisoning -
cyanide, the papers say, but of course we can't accept that until we see.
It seems to me, Walter, that lately the papers have made the rule in
murder cases: When in doubt, call it cyanide."
Not relishing Kennedy in the humour of expressing his real opinion of
the newspapers, I hastily turned the conversation back again by asking,
"How about the note from Dr. Dixon?"
"Ah, there is the crux of the whole case - that note from Dixon. Let us
see. Dr. Dixon is, if I am informed correctly, of a fine and aristocratic
family, though not wealthy. I believe it has been established that while

he was an interne in a city hospital he became acquainted with Vera
Lytton, after her divorce from that artist Thurston. Then comes his
removal to Danbridge and his meeting and later his engagement with
Miss Willard. On the whole, Walter, judging from the newspaper
pictures, Alma Willard is quite the equal of Vera