The words were choked in his mouth. At a spring, Conover had cleared the space between them, had caught the physician by the throat and was shaking him back and forth with jerks that threatened to snap the victim’s spine. Then he hurled him to the centre of the room and towered over him, ablaze with fury.
“Yes, I’m a wild beast, all right!” he snarled. “An’ I’m li’ble to become a hom’cidal one at that. ‘Drop the case,’ would you? Sneak out an’ leave that poor kid in there to lose what chance she might have from your help? Well, Mr. Doctor, if you take one step out into that hall, the next step you take’ll be in hell. What’s more, you’ll go back to that sick room, right now; an’ you’ll work over Miss Shevlin like you never worked before. If I catch you neglectin’ her or tryin’ to get away,—by the Eternal, I’ll tear you in half with my bare hands! Now go! Go in there!”
The doctor, his rage tempered by the memory of the iron fingers on his windpipe, glared at the madman in angry irresolution. Caleb’s muscles tightened ominously. The physician recoiled a step in most unprofessional haste.
“You are a dangerous maniac!” he said somewhat unsteadily, “and you shall go to prison for this outrageous assault. For the present, I shall remain on the case. Not because of your threats, but from common humanity toward—”
“Toward yourself,” finished Caleb, satisfied that he had won his point. “An’ just to make sure, I’ll lock the outer door of this suite an’ pocket the key. Now go back to your patient!”
Outside, there was glaring, heartless sunshine. In the sick room stood Caleb and Jack, one on either side of the bed over which the doctor was bending. With closed eyes, Desirée Shevlin rested where Conover had laid her. For hours she had lain thus.
“I can do no more,” pronounced the doctor, rising and meeting Caleb’s glazed eye. “The end may come now at any moment.”
The Fighter, his every faculty drowned in the horrible egotism of grief, made no answer.
“If only there were someone to pray!” muttered Jack, battling to keep back the tears. “I wish Mr. Grant was—”