The realization came a split second too late. Macklin had reached for the gun, whipped it from its holster and was gripping it firmly before Gallison could swing about. And swinging about did Gallison no good, for by that time he was weaponless. Macklin snapped off the safety catch and fired twice. The first bullet struck Gallison in the right thigh, wrenching a groan from him, and dropping him to his knees. Blood spurted, spraying out over the floor. The second shot, also aimed at Gallison, missed its mark. It went wild, causing Lynn Prentiss to cry out and clutch at her side. Beneath her fingers a dull stain grew. She swayed a little, staggered toward the desk and clung to it, supporting herself with one hand, staring at Fenton in mute appeal. Fenton had his own gun out now and was taking careful aim at Macklin, who was heading for the door. But before he could fire Macklin was out of the office and was racing down the hall, Gallison's gun still in his clasp. Macklin reached the reception desk, and started toward the door of the outer office. But he never reached the door. A tall, very thin young man with a sheaf of drawings under his arm had just entered the outer office and he had heard Lynn's stricken cry. He was all very confused about everything. But the cry did something to him, because he recognized Lynn's voice and realized instantly that something quite terrible had happened. And when he saw the distraught-looking man come rushing out of the corridor, with a gun in his hand, he acted on impulse, threw out one leg and tripped the man up, sending him sprawling. A moment later, while the man with the gun was still sprawling, another very big strong-looking man with another gun emerged from the corridor, piled on top of the man he'd tripped and clobbered him over the head with the butt of the gun until he gave up trying to rise. It was all very confusing and hard to understand. Chapter X He had entered the hospital room so quietly that Lynn Prentiss was unaware that she was not alone--the nurse had left fifteen minutes before--until he was standing by the bed with a sheaf of drawings under arm and the strangest, oddest assortment of yellow flowers in the other she had ever seen. "You'll have to turn on the light to look at these, I guess," he said and she didn't know at first whether he was referring to the flowers or the drawings. But when she switched on the light directly over the bed she saw that it was one of the drawings which he was extending toward her. The flowers he was holding a little awkwardly, not even venturing to offer them to her, as if he wasn't quite sure that she would approve of his taste in flowers or would not think him over-presumptuous. Since he seemed to want her to look at the drawings first, she did so, studying them carefully as he passed them to her one by one. "Well," he said, when she had remained for a long while silent. "What do you think."