"Some seem to think it was suicide," prompted Kennedy.
"People who have brilliant prospects and are engaged to pretty girls don't usually die of their own accord," rasped Harris.
"So you think he really did have the secret of artificial rubber?" asked Craig.
"Not artificial rubber. Synthetic rubber. It was the real thing, I believe."
"Did Mr. Borland and his new chemist Lathrop believe it, too?"
"I can't say. But I should surely advise you to see them." The doctor's face was twitching nervously.
"Where is Borland's office?" repeated Kennedy, again taking from his pocket the field glass and adjusting it carefully by the window.
"Over there," directed Harris, indicating the corner of the works to which we had already been directed.
Kennedy had stepped closer to the window before him and I stood beside him looking out also.
"The cut was a very peculiar one," remarked Kennedy, still adjusting the glasses. "An artery and a vein had been placed together so that the endothelium, or inner lining of each, was in contact with the other, giving a continuous serous surface. Which window did you say was Borland's? I wish you'd step to the other window and raise it, so that I can be sure. I don't want to go wandering all over the works looking for him."
"Yes," the doctor said as he went, leaving him standing beside the window from which he had been
