"This woman has been slugged!" he shouted. He did not know how
much of the tragedy these men had witnessed. Boldness was his cue
for the moment; stealth could follow later. "She's been in the
water. I'm afraid it's murder. The man who did it went that way.
Yell for the police!"
If the assailant was James Bansemer, Droom was doing his duty by
him. If it was another, he was doing his duty by society.
CHAPTER XVI
HOURS OF TERROR
Droom's intentions were clear. It was not a tender heart nor was it
chivalry which prompted him to do the deed of valour just described.
He had started out to do his duty by James Bansemer because he was
in his hire; and he felt it still his duty to cover the tracks of
his master as best he could. He knew that he was jeopardising his
own safety; the obstinate cunning of his nature insisted that the
man he had watched was Bansemer, although his brief glimpse of the
fugitive's face discouraged that belief.
The gaunt clerk kept his chin well covered with his great muffler;
the broad collar of his ulster was turned up about his face. The
rapid plan that dashed into his mind comprehended but two things:
the effort to restore life to Frances Cable and the hope of escaping
without being recognised. He felt that she had not been in the
water long enough to drown; every hope depended upon the force of
the blow that he imagined had been delivered.
Chilled to the bone, his teeth chattering like castanets, the old
man was stooping over the inanimate form on the ground when the
two men came up. In answer to their startled questions, he merely
said that he had seen the struggle from across the street, but had
been too late to prevent the tragedy.
"We must get her into one of these houses quick," he grunted. "Take
hold of her, you. And YOU over there hurry and ring a doorbell.
Get inside and 'phone for a doctor--a doctor first and then the
police. We may be able to save her life."
The first of the rich men's homes denied them admission. The man
of the house said he would not "stand for the notoriety." Droom,
supporting the head of the wet, icy figure, made a remark which
the man was never to forget. At the second house they were admitted.
In an instant all was confusion. A card game was broken up and
guests of the house assisted their host and hostess in doing all
manner of unnecessary things. Droom gave the commands which sooner
or later resolved themselves into excited, wrathy demands upon the
telephone operator, calls for a certain near-by doctor, calls for
the police, calls for stimulants, maids, hot water bottles--everything.
"She's been robbed," said one of the men. "Her rings have been torn
off. Look at the blood!"
"She's well-dressed, too," said another. "Say, her face looks
familiar---"
To the amazement of everyone, the lips of the woman parted and a
gasping, choking sound issued from between them, a slight shudder
swept over her frame.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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