“Call that name again.”
Apparently the Society for Psychical Research is not first in the field of curiosity concerning the Unknown.
“Bennett Greene.”
“Here!”
All faces turned in the direction of the familiar voice; the two men between whom in the order of stature Greene had commonly stood in line turned and squarely confronted each other.
“Once more,” commanded the inexorable investigator, and once more came—a trifle tremulously—the name of the dead man:
“Bennett Story Greene.”
“Here!”
At that instant a single rifle-shot was heard, away to the front, beyond the skirmish-line, followed, almost attended, by the savage hiss of an approaching bullet which passing through the line, struck audibly, punctuating as with a full stop the captain’s exclamation, “What the devil does it mean?”
Lieutenant Dudley pushed through the ranks from his place in the rear.