I saw you--looking pretty blue, old man--facing
that woman who seemed to be denouncing you. Max stood beside you
with a pistol, and beside him was our friend, Mortimer, with a
regular whopper of an automatic. Before I had time to move, the
plain-clothes man at the back of the house whistled. He had found
the secret door with Bellward and the woman coming out of it.
Then I saw Mortimer fire point-blank at you. I had my gun out in
a second, but I was afraid of shooting, for fear of hitting you
as you went for the other man.
"But the corporal at my side wasn't worrying much about you. Just
as you jumped he put up his gun and let fly at Mortimer with a
sense of discrimination which does him infinite credit. He missed
Mortimer, but plugged Max plumb through the forehead and my old
friend dropped in his tracks right between you and the other
fellow. On that we hacked our way through the French window. The
corporal found time to have another shot and laid out a tall,
odd-looking man..."
"No. 13," elucidated Desmond.
"... When we got inside we found him dead across the threshold of
the door leading into the hall. Behrend we caught hiding in a
brush cupboard by the back stairs. As for the others--"
"Gone?" queried Desmond with a sudden sinking at his heart.
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