Читать книгу Hidden Foes; Or, A Fatal Miscalculation онлайн

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“That’s true, chief, but what of it?”

“Suppose it was not a cigar, but made to closely resemble one?”

“Gee whiz! I get you,” cried Patsy. “You mean a tube through which one’s breath might be blown.”

“I mean a tube, Patsy, which contained something that may have been forced outward by the man’s breath, and so directed that Wagner must have inhaled it,” Carter explained.

“I see.”

“Just what it was, being powerful enough to immediately overcome him, and how the tube was constructed so that the user would not be affected by its contents when ejecting it, are open questions.”

“Do you really think that is how it was done?” Chick inquired, a bit incredulous.

“I certainly do,” nodded the detective.

“Had Gleason thought of that device, or any of the police?”

“No, nor did I inform him,” said Carter, smiling significantly. “Since we are about to investigate these mysterious cases, which I have decided to do, we may derive an advantage by not disclosing our suspicions.”

“Certainly,” Chick agreed. “That’s good judgment. It may be, chief, that the crook has discovered an odorless and very powerful narcotic gas; also various methods by which he can craftily and quickly administer it.”