The dim light of the candle gleamed on the blade. Greg Carker tore himself free and struck a swinging blow which landed on Murillo's jaw. The Mexican crashed to the foot of the stairs, where he lay groaning while the aroused household flocked to the spot.
"What is it, Carker? What the dickens is the matter?" demanded Frank, as he seized Greg's shoulder.
Carker had picked up the candle and was holding it in his hand.
"I think we'll find a man at the foot of these stairs," he said, his voice not quite steady in spite of his effort to command himself.
They did find a man down there. Jose Murillo had struck on his own knife and was seriously wounded. Doctor Schnitzle was promptly brought over from Farnham Hall, but after taking a look at Murillo's wound, he turned and whispered to Frank:
"Maype he vill last vun halluf hour, but it iss not to be expectioned. It vos der end uf him."
The doctor was right. To the end Murillo protected his accomplice, claiming he had broken into the house by himself, with the intention of carrying Juanita off.
And Gregory Carker said nothing.
The following day, however, Carker found an opportunity to speak privately, as he supposed, with Mrs. Morton. He followed her from the house and stopped her at a point where there was little likelihood that they would be seen.
"You'll take the next train out of Bloomfield," he said. "I thought you might have good sense enough to take the first one, but you don't seem inclined to go without being invited."