The elevator ride had never seemed so short,—the floors fairly flew past me, and in a few moments I was in the beautiful third room of Mr. Gately’s, and found Miss Raynor and Mr. Manning eagerly awaiting my news.
“Have you found Mr. Gately?” Amory Manning asked, but at the same instant, Olive Raynor cried out, “You have something dreadful to tell us, Mr. Brice! I know you have!”
This seemed to help me, and I answered, “Yes, Miss Raynor,—the worst.”
For I felt that this imperious, self-possessed girl would rather be told abruptly, like that, than to have me mince matters.
And I was right, for she said, quickly, “Tell it all,—any knowledge is better than suspense.”
So I told her, as gently as I could, of our discovery of the body of Amos Gately in his private elevator, at the bottom of the shaft.
“But I don’t understand,” said Manning. “Shot through the heart and alone in the elevator?”
“That’s the way it is. I’ve no idea of the details of the matter. We didn’t move the body, or examine it thoroughly, but the first glance showed the truth. However, a doctor has been sent for, and the vice-president and secretary of the Trust Company have things in charge, so I came right up here to tell you people about it.”
“And I thank you, Mr. Brice,” Olive’s lovely dark eyes gave me a grateful glance. “What shall I do, Amory? Shall we go down there?”
Manning hesitated. “I will,” he said, looking at her tenderly, “but—do you want to? It will be hard for you——”