On the afternoon of the sixth, after the party’s return from their visit to Niagara Falls, the President sent Mrs. McKinley to the home of Mr. John G. Milburn, president of the Exposition, their host, to rest from the fatigue of the morning, while he went to the Temple of Music on the Exposition Grounds, where he was to hold a public reception. About four o’clock, one of the individuals of a great throng that was passing approached with his hand wrapped in a handkerchief. Mr. McKinley smiled in his usual friendly fashion, extending his hand to the stranger. Instantly, two loud reports of a pistol sounded sharp and clear above the buzz of voices. After an instant of complete stunned silence, during which the President looked pained and bewildered, he straightened up, threw his head back, and staggered into the arms of his secretary, George B. Cortelyou. He was led to a chair, where he bowed his head in his hands. The crowds burst forth into cries and curses as the realization was borne in upon them that the President had been shot. He remained calm, and begged them not to be alarmed, assuring those around him he was not badly hurt. He opened his waistcoat and drew forth his hand daubed with blood. The scene that followed was frightful. Several men threw the assassin, a Polish anarchist, a follower of the teachings of Emma Goldman, to the ground, snatched away his pistol, and would have taken justice in their own hands and executed him but for the feeble words of command from the stricken President, “Let no one harm him.” He was locked up under heavy guard. The President was at once taken on a stretcher to the Emergency Hospital in the grounds, and the best surgeons were summoned. The examination disclosed the fact that the two shots fired at close range had both found their mark: one struck him on the breastbone, and glancing, had penetrated the stomach; the other had entered the abdomen. In reply to their announcement that an immediate operation was necessary, he calmly replied, “Gentlemen, do what in your judgment you think best.” After a half-hour operation the surgeons were unable to locate the bullets. Preparations were made to take the mortally wounded man to the Milburn home. When it was long past the hour for the President to return, Mrs. McKinley had grown anxious and nervous, for she feared some accident had befallen him. While every effort had been made to keep her in ignorance of the shooting, she had to be informed as the President was being carried to the house. To everyone’s amazement, she took the news quietly. Since her husband seemed uncomfortable at her absence from his bedside, she was brought in.