"Well, old man," he said, "anything new?" "Yes, sir. Something very new." "What have you found out?" "Everything." "Very well, let me have it." "I found out that this man bought, on December 10th, thirty grains of morphia. He had this morphia put up in five-grain capsules. He bought this at the drug store on the corner of Blank Street and Nemo Avenue." "Good gracious!" answered Stratton. "Then to get morphia he must have had a physician's certificate. Did you find who the physician was that signed the certificate?" "My dear sir," said the Chicago man, "this person is himself a physician, unless I am very much mistaken. I was told that this was the portrait of Stephen Roland. Am I right?" "That is the name." "Well, then, he is a doctor himself. Not doing a very large practice, it is true, but he is a physician. Did you not know that?" [Illustration: "Here's the detailed report."] "No," said Stratton; "how stupid I am! I never thought of asking the man's occupation." "Very well, if that is what you wanted to know, here's the detailed report of my investigation." When the man left, Stratton rubbed his hands. "Now, Mr. Stephen Roland, I have you," he said. CHAPTER XII. After receiving this information Stratton sat alone in his room and thought deeply over his plans. He did not wish to make a false step, yet there was hardly enough in the evidence he had secured to warrant his giving Stephen Roland up to the police. Besides this, it would put the suspected man at once on his guard, and there was no question but that gentleman had taken every precaution to prevent discovery. After