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The other day she told me of
another dream. In it she seemed to be attacked by a bull, which
suddenly changed into a serpent. I may say that I had asked her to
make a record of her dreams, as well as other data, which I
thought might be of use in the study and treatment of her nervous
troubles. I readily surmised that not the dream, but something
else, perhaps some recollection which it recalled, worried her. By
careful questioning I discovered that it was--a broken
engagement."
"Yes," prompted Kennedy.
"The bull-serpent, she admitted, had a half-human face--the face
of Arnold Masterson!"
Was Dr. Ross desperately shifting suspicion from himself? I asked.
"Very strange--very," ruminated Kennedy. "That reminds me again. I
wonder if you could let me have a sample of this cobra venom?"
"Surely. Excuse me; I'll get you some."
The doctor had scarcely shut the door when Kennedy began prowling
around quietly. In the waiting-room, which was now deserted, stood
a typewriter.
Quickly Craig ran over the keys of the machine until he had a
sample of every character.


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