Doctor Adams looked on in surprise while one of the girls pulled Elinor away from Druid, trying to make the hysterical girl understand that the doctor had arrived.
“What’s happened here?” the medical man inquired brusquely.
Harold Westley stepped forward. “Two men had a quarrel,” he informed, “and one of them was shot—accidentally.”
“Humph! Looks more like a free-for-all fight,” the doctor answered, glancing around the room. He bent over the still form; turned him over. His examination lasted but a few seconds.
“Dead,” he announced solemnly. “A clean shot through the heart—died instantaneously.”
“No! No!” Elinor moaned, attempting to rush forward again.
“Are you his wife?” the doctor inquired more gently.
Elinor shook her head, but sobs wracked her.
“Oh—well—it is my duty to inform the authorities. Of course, you know no one must leave before their arrival?” He rose from beside the body.
Howard reached for the only friendly hand outheld to him and gripped it.