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
