Leaving him for awhile, we will return to the room from which he had escaped.
The hammering at the door continued for some time after Bill had dropped on to the outhouse. Mrs. Bourne did not know what to do.
On the floor lay her husband in an insensible condition. Who the men were outside the room she could not very well determine, but she judged rightly enough that they were officers of the law.
She was, however, in no way disposed to admit them till Rawton had sufficient time afforded him to effect his escape.
The poor woman was in a terrible state of fright and trepidation, and she stood, pale and irresolute, wringing her hands, in the centre of the apartment.
“If you don’t unlock the door, we will break it open,” cried a voice from the outside.
“For mercy’s sake, what’s the matter? Do say what you want!” cried Mrs. Bourne.
“We want to see the doctor. Open the door without further ado.”
“But I am afraid. Doctor Bourne has had a desperate struggle with some man, and is lying senseless on the floor. Are you friends or enemies?”
“Friends. We are detective officers.”