Part 17

What was back of it all? I had heard of the so-called resolution dreams. I had heard of dreams that kill, of unconscious murder, of terrible acts of the somnambulist, of temporary insanity, of many deeds of which the doer had no recollection in the waking state, until put under hypnotism.

Could it be such a thing which Kennedy was driving at disclosing?

I cast a hasty glance about at our little audience. Doyle was hushed, now. This was far beyond him. Leslie was deeply interested. Doctor Lathrop had moved closer to Honora on the other side of Shattuck, as if to reassure her.

Kennedy, too, was studying attentively the effect of his revelation both on Honora and the others.

Honora, her shoulders bent with the outpouring of the long-suppressed emotion of the examination, called for sympathy.

Shattuck saw it, saw the distress she so plainly showed.

"Kennedy," he exclaimed, unable to restrain himself longer, pushing aside Doctor Lathrop, as he placed himself between her and the man whom he regarded now as her tormentor, "Kennedy--you are a faker--nothing but a damned dream doctor--in scientific disguise."

"Perhaps," smiled Kennedy, unaffected by the threat. "But let me finish. Then you may think differently."

He turned deliberately from Shattuck to the rest of us.

"What happened at that office the fatal night was this," he shot out. "There was a woman there. But from what I deduce, it was not Honora Wilford. It must have been Vina Lathrop!"

I felt a shock of surprise. Yet, after all, I had to admit that there was nothing improbable about it.

"Later," he resumed, "someone else did enter that office. In all probability that person did hold up Vail Wilford, with a gun perhaps, just about as we have heard described. The Calabar bean was cut in half, undoubtedly. You will see from the facts in the case that it must have been so. Probably, too, each wrote a suicide note--on the typewriter--either to save the survivor, or at the dictation of the person who survived. Each must have eaten half of the bean.

"But," added Kennedy, impressively, "it was no duel by poison--really. That other person knew the antidote--knew that the antidote was atropin--came prepared. That other person deliberately put atropin in his own glass of water, knowing that it was the antidote. No, it was no duel. It was murder--plain murder!"

As he finished, Kennedy's voice rang out sharply and decisively in a direct accusation.

"As for you, Doyle," he added, catching the eye of the detective, "you put your money on the wrong horse, as you would say. You thought that in my constant examination of Mrs. Wilford I coincided with your superficial observation. But I had another purpose, a very different purpose."

Kennedy stopped a moment to turn from Doyle to the woman Doyle had persecuted. Honora and Shattuck were again close together, watching Kennedy intently, oblivious of all but themselves and him.

It gave me a start to see them as they were now. Honora and the man she really loved were united at last. In his face I could see a far different kind of Shattuck, as though the fire of the ordeal had purified him.

I caught a look of satisfaction that crossed Craig's face. He had succeeded. Back of all, I now saw that Kennedy had had all along a very human intention.

Quickly I sought to explain what had already taken place only a few moments before. Had Shattuck lied to save her, when he saw that Doyle was framing a case against her? If that were so, then had she, with her quick wit, come to the rescue, with a marvelously constructed story that fitted perfectly with that which he had told and had broken down in telling? Had Shattuck and Honora, cornered, as they thought by Doyle, leaped at any suggestion?

But the truth--what was it?

Kennedy was speaking again, and now all hung on each word.

"The stuff that dreams are made of is very real, after all," he remarked. "Just take this case itself. Suppose some one, who understood better than Honora Wilford, learned of her dreams--interpreted them--found out the truth about her relations with another--found out, as I have done, what she herself did not know--and then acted on the information.

"Suppose that person knew of the soul scar, the old wound, knew from the dreams the conflict between the various persons--and encouraged the dream actors--in real life. Suppose, too, that that person, learning of what Vail Wilford was doing, had a personal grievance--a spite--a desire for bitter revenge."

As Kennedy built up his hypothetical case I became more and more enthralled by it. It was more than hypothesis now.

"The sphygmograph," he resumed, "has told me just what I still needed to know, even while you all have been here, perhaps forgetful of the little telltale that has been attached to your wrists. It is a faithful recorder of emotions, if you know how to study it. What is hidden from the eye the heart reveals. This heart machine will record it, betray the inmost secrets."

Kennedy drew himself up slowly, as though to impress forcefully what he was about to add.

"Psychanalysis," he exclaimed, "has led through Honora's soul scar to the discovery of the truth by the aid of this little lie-detector. It was your revenge on Vail Wilford--Lathrop!"

Harshly Lathrop laughed, as though he had sensed the coming of the accusation all along.

I took a step toward him, and as I did so something about his eyes almost halted me. The pupils were strangely contracted. I did not recall having noticed it before, certainly not when he came in.

Again he laughed harshly. With a shaking hand he reached into his pocket and drew forth something. I saw instantly that it was a Calabar bean.

He was about to place it in his mouth when Craig leaped and struck it from his hand. Honora screamed as Lathrop reeled back into his chair.

Instantly Shattuck's arm stole about her solicitously as she shrank from the shaking figure in the chair near by. Her hand stole into his.

"No cheating justice, Lathrop!" exclaimed Kennedy, seizing his wrist, which was already clammy.

He smiled faintly, and his lips moved with an effort.

"I did--what I did. It's too late for atropin now!"

THE END

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TRANSCRIBER'S CORRECTIONS

page original text correction 212 she hestitated a fraction she hesitated a fraction 270 "They are well know "They are well known 272 sources of informaation sources of information