Choking, sputtering, the man groped a minute blindly, then fell on the floor and frantically tried to rise again and call out.
The words seemed to stick in his throat.
"You—you shot him?" gasped a woman's voice which Constance now knew was Florence's.
"With the new German Secret Service gun," answered Constance quietly, keeping it leveled to cow any assistance that might be brought. "It blinds and stupefies without killing—a bulletless revolver intended to check and render harmless the criminal instead of maiming him. The cartridges contain several chemicals that combine when they are exploded and form a vapor which blinds a man and puts him out. No one wants to kill such a person as this."
She reached over and switched on the lights.
The man on the floor was Drummond himself.
"You will tell your real employer, Mr. Preston," she added contemptuously, "that unless he agrees to our story of his elopement with Florence, marries her, and allows her to start an undefended action for divorce, we intend to make use of the new federal Mann Act—with a jail sentence—for both of you."
Drummond looked up sullenly, still blinking and choking.
"And not a word of this until the suit is filed. Then WE will see the reporters—not he. Understand?"
"Yes," he muttered, still clutching his throat.