"
"The circumstances," said Mr. Barton, "are, in my opinion, highly
suspicious, and I will place them before you--of course, in strict
confidence."
Thorndyke nodded and indicated a chair.
"My brother," continued Mr. Barton, taking the profferred seat, "has
recently married for the second time. His age is fifty-five, and that of
his wife twenty-six, and I may say that the marriage has been--well, by
no means a success. Now, within the last fortnight, my brother has been
attacked by a mysterious and extremely painful affection of the stomach,
to which his doctor seems unable to give a name. It has resisted all
treatment hitherto. Day by day the pain and distress increase, and I
feel that, unless something decisive is done, the end cannot be far
off."
"Is the pain worse after taking food?" inquired Thorndyke.
"That's just it!" exclaimed our visitor. "I see what is in your mind,
and it has been in mine, too; so much so that I have tried repeatedly to
obtain samples of the food that he is taking. And this morning I
succeeded." Here he took from his pocket a wide-mouthed bottle, which,
disengaging from its paper wrappings, he laid on the table.
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