On the heels of his words the front door bell began to ring. All
turned in the direction of the hall.
"I'll answer that!" said Jack Bailey eagerly.
Miss Cornelia gave him the key to the front door.
"Don't admit anyone till you know who it is," she said. Bailey
nodded and disappeared into the hall. The others waited tensely.
Miss Cornelia's hand crept toward the revolver lying on the table
where Anderson had put it down.
There was the click of an opening door, the noise of a little
scuffle--then men's voices raised in an angry dispute. "What do
I know about a flashlight?" cried an irritated voice. "I haven't
got a pocket-flash--take your hands off me!" Bailey's voice
answered the other voice, grim, threatening. The scuffle resumed.
Then Doctor Wells burst suddenly into the room, closely followed
by Bailey. The Doctor's tie was askew--he looked ruffled and
enraged. Bailey followed him vigilantly, seeming not quite sure
whether to allow him to enter or not.
"My dear Miss Van Gorder," began the Doctor in tones of high
dudgeon, "won't you instruct your servants that even if I do make
a late call, I am not to be received with violence?"
"I asked you if you had a pocket-flash about you!" answered Bailey
indignantly. "If you call a question like that violence--" He
seemed about to restrain the Doctor by physical force.
Miss Cornelia quelled the teapot-tempest.
"It's all right, Brooks," she said, taking the front door key from
his hand and putting it back on the table.
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