"Well, no, not guessing," Doctor Bushnell answered slowly. "It had more foundation than a guess. Very logical, Bates, reasoning out that business about the door. What else can you tell about this business?" "Very little, sir, very little, indeed. Mr. Kirklan and I rushed directly upstairs when the shot was fired and then----" "Wait a minute. You rushed upstairs? What time was this?" "A few minutes after half past twelve, very shortly before I had you on the telephone." Doctor Bushnell gave the man a quick glance. "You had been in bed, hadn't you? I judge from your state of dress----" "Quite so, doctor; I had retired early. I was sound asleep when I was awakened by the ringing of the doorbell. It was Mr. Gilmore; he had locked himself out and was trying to get in. He had been out at the studio--the old stable, you know, where he does his writing. The poor man was quite badly upset; he was in a terrible way, and asked me to make him a toddy." The physician looked uneasy. "Good Lord, Bates," he muttered, "you don't think it possible that Kirklan----" "Oh, certainly not, sir," the butler broke in quickly. "It was quite impossible. I was standing within four feet of him when we both heard the scream and the shot. The glass dropped out of his hand, and he stood there like a man of stone, his hands shaking, his face white as a sheet of paper. He said: 'My God, Bates, what's that?' And while we were both still listening, there came the shot; it must have followed the scream by half a minute, perhaps not so long as that. We both dashed up the stairs, I in front. While we were mounting the steps, sir, we both heard a sound that seemed to be the slamming of a door." "Ah!" exclaimed the doctor. "The slamming of a door? Then you think that some one in the house----" "That would be but guessing, doctor. The door of this room was open, the light was burning, and I was the first to see her. It seemed to me--I cannot be sure--that she took her last breath while I was watching her. The bleeding had stopped. Am I right, doctor, in supposing that the flow of blood stops when death takes place?" Doctor Bushnell nodded. "Yes, when the heart action ceases," he answered. "What else, Bates?" "The gun was just as you see it now, sir. It was only natural that Mr. Gilmore should be so firm in his belief that she had taken her own life. He was not even convinced when I mentioned the matter of the door and the scream. Poor man, he couldn't be expected to do any thinking at a time like that. He was very much in love with her; he seemed fairly to worship her. It was too bad that she wasn't the right wife for him. Miss Joan is the one he should have married; she's only his stepsister, you know, no blood kin. I guess it nearly broke her heart, poor girl, when----"