Callously but lightly and skillfully the surgeon examined the battered head. “Escaped concussion by a hair, you might say. Probably had his cap on. That black eye, though, is an older affair. Who is he?” “I suspect he's some political refugee. We don't know a thing about him otherwise. How soon can he be moved?” “He ought to be moved at once and given the best of care.” “I can give him that in my eagle's nest. Harrison, this chap's life is in danger; and if we get him into my lofty diggings they won't be able to trace him. Not far from here there's a private hospital I know. It goes through from one street to the next. I know the doctor. We'll have the ambulance carry the patient there, but at the rear I'll have one of the office newspaper trucks. And after a little wait we'll shoot the stretcher into the truck. The police will not bother us. I've seen to that. I rather believe it falls in with some of my work. The main idea, of course, is to rid Miss Conover of any trouble.” “Just as you say,” agreed the surgeon. “That's all I can do for the present. I'll run down to the entrance and wait for The nurse.” “Will he live?” asked Kitty. “Of course he will. He is in good physical condition. Imagine he has simply been knocked out. Serious only if unattended. Your finding him probably saved him. Twelve hours will tell the story. May be on his feet inside a week. Still, it would be advisable to keep him in bed as long as possible. Fagged out, I should say, from that beard. I'll go down and wait for Miss Frances.” “And ring three times when you return,” advised Cutty. “All right. Did they try to strangle him or did he have something round his neck?” “Hanged if I know.” “All out of the room now. I want it dark. Just as soon as the nurse arrives I'll return. Three rings.” Harrison left the apartment. Cutty spent a few minutes at the telephone, then he joined Kitty in the living room. “Kitty, what was the stranger like?” “Like a gorilla. He spoke English as if he had a cold.” Cutty scowled into space. “Have a scar over an eyebrow?” “Good gracious, I couldn't tell! Both his eyes were black and his nose banged dreadfully. Johnny Two-Hawks probably did it.” “Bully for Two-Hawks! Kitty, you're a marvel. Not a flivver from the start. And those slate-blue eyes of yours don't miss many things.” “Listen!” she interrupted, taking hold of his sleeve. “Hear it?” “Only the Elevated.” “Tumpitum-tump! Tumpitum-tump! Cutty, you hypnotized me this afternoon with your horrid drums.” “The emeralds?” He managed to repress the start. “I don't know what it is; drums, anyhow. Maybe it is the emeralds. Something has been happening ever since you told me about them--the misery and evil that follow their wake.” “But the story goes that women are immune, Kitty.” “Nonsense! No woman is immune where a wonderful gem is concerned. And yet I've common sense and humour.”