"It's possible," he admitted, and then he shook his head, adding, "but improbable. I did work at Bellevue in New York, while I was at medical school. Naturally we had some suicide cases. It's a queer thing, but most of the men shot themselves through the head, while the women aimed for their heart--perhaps a natural horror of disfiguring their faces. But, looking back, none of them tried to reach the heart from so far around at the side. Always in front. Adding weight to the medical aspect of it, there are those very significant points that Bates raised. Quite an intelligent fellow, that butler of yours. He's been in the family a long time, hasn't he?" "More than twenty years, I think; he was much attached to my father." "It is significant, Kirklan, that you and Bates found the door standing open. And the scream--ah, there's the big point! Why did she scream? Not because she had reached a decision to end her life. As I consider the matter, this man Sarbella----" "No!" "Is your friendship for him so blind as that, Kirklan? Stop and think things over, man; on the second floor, when the shot was fired, were only your stepmother, your stepsister, and Sarbella. It must have been one of the three; there is no other explanation!" As his voice came to a dramatic pause, there was a rap at the door. "Doctor Bushnell," came the voice of the butler from the other side of the panel, "will you answer the telephone? There is a call for you." The doctor looked puzzled. "There was no ring," he said. "That is an extension," explained Gilmore. "There is no bell in this room." "Oh, I see," murmured the physician, and, leaning across the table, he pulled the telephone toward him. "Yes, Doctor Bushnell speaking," he said. "Who--what? Where did you get that information?" A pause. "Yes, that is true, but there will be no further information--positively none. You are quite wasting your time in pressing these questions." He cut the conversation short by clicking down the receiver. Gilmore lifted his haggard face in a glance of curiosity. "Who was it?" he wanted to know. "_The Star._ It is really quite amazing how quickly the newspapers get hold of a thing like this. Probably the telephone girl at the village gave them the tip." "The newspapers!" groaned Gilmore. "The scandal they will make of it. Did--did you tell them that it was murder?" The doctor nodded. "They were already in possession of that report, and I verified it. There's no use kicking against the pricks, Kirklan; the best that could have been done was to keep it out of the papers for a few brief hours. There will have to be an inquest, you know; that is a public hearing. It's an ugly situation, but there's no escaping it." "Yes, I suppose you're right," muttered the novelist, "but I want it expressly understood that no reporters are to be admitted to my house."