“Pelt, for God's sake, get Bartley and Carter down to the library. I am in here with the gardener, and the man's dead—murdered.”
I gave a startled cry and stammered out something. What it was I said I do not know; but he was too excited to say more. Then came his voice again, breaking with excitement, as he cried:
“Get them down here quick, Pelt—it is murder.”
Chapter XV.
Another Murder
Dumbfounded, I stood holding the receiver, too dazed to even move. Then, frantically, I called Patton's name, though the sharp click which came when he hurriedly placed the receiver on the hook told me he had rung off. Hastily hanging up the receiver, I rushed into the living room and halted by the door. At my sudden appearance, there was a pause in the conversation. Bartley's eyes came to my face, rested, and he rose quickly to his feet, his face very grave.
“What is it?” came his quick question.
“Another murder—at Warren's,” I stammered.
I saw Ranville's face stiffen into attention as he slowly rose. Bartley's keen eyes never left my face, and a trace of anxiety swept across his face. Carter looked as though he did not believe me, but he asked quickly:
“Who? What do you mean?”
I told them in a few words of Patton's voice and what he had said. As I named the young professor, I saw that Bartley was not only relieved, but also he seemed rather puzzled. His eyes opened wider when I said he had told me the gardener had been murdered. But at the statement that Patton wanted us to come at once, they all started for the door.