“I am sorry,” began Harry, and then she seemed to sense what he was going to add.
“He isn't—Oh, don't tell me he is—”
“The doctor says he is dead, Viola,” answered Bartlett gently. “He passed away without pain or suffering. It must have been heart disease.”
But Viola Carwell never heard the last words, for she really fainted this time, and Captain Poland laid her gently down on the soft, green grass.
“Better get the doctor for her,” he advised Bartlett. “She'll need him, if her father doesn't.” As Harry Bartlett turned aside, waving back the curiosity seekers that were already leaving the former scene of excitement for the latest, LeGrand Blossom came up. He seemed very cool and not at all excited, considering what had happened.
“I will look after Miss Carwell,” he said.
“Perhaps you had better see to Mr. Carwell—Mr. Carwell's remains, Blossom,” suggested Captain Poland. “Miss Carwell will be herself very soon. She has only fainted. Her father is dead.
“Dead? Are you sure?” asked LeGrand Blossom, and his manner seemed a trifle more naturally excited.
“Dr. Baird says so. You'd better go to him. He may want to ask some questions, and you were more closely associated with Carwell than any of the rest of us.”
“Very well, I'll look after the body,” said the secretary. “Did the doctor say what killed him?”