It did not take Frank long to go leaping down the stairs, and Hodge followed him closely. They tore open the door and rushed out. Within the shadow at the corner of the house they stumbled over a prostrate figure.
Frank dropped on his knees.
"It's Berlin!" he hoarsely exclaimed. "Heavens! is he dead?"
"Hardly that, Merry," came a faint whisper, as Carson stirred in Frank's arms. "What was it that fell on me? It seemed as if the moon came down and burst upon my head. I saw a flash of fire and heard a frightful explosion. What happened to me?"
"Some one struck you down from behind. Lizette saw it from her window. She was sitting at the window and saw you walking here on the lawn. She saw the man rush upon you and knock you senseless."
"Lizette?" muttered Carson. And then again in a queer tone he said: "Lizette?"
"Yes, she saw it."
"From—her—window?" questioned Berlin.
"From her window," repeated Frank. "Have you been robbed, Carson? The ruffian must have been a robber. I presume he went through your pockets."
"I don't know," muttered the young Westerner thickly.