The first object on which his eye rested was the figure of Harkins seated on the ground well out toward the opening. He appeared to be leaning against the side wall and looking off where the Ghoojurs had been seen during the day.
"Helloa, Harkins," called the surgeon in a guarded voice, "what was the meaning of that noise a few minutes ago? Anything up?"
The man made no reply, nor did he move.
"I say, old fellow," added Avery, stepping still closer and speaking in a louder voice, "what's going on?"
Still the sentinel was motionless and silent.
Dr. Avery laughed softly to himself.
"Asleep, as sure as I live! That's the best joke on Harkins; how we shall all laugh at him! You're a fine sentinel, ain't you?"
Grasping his shoulder he shook him vigorously.
"Wake up, old boy! Arouse, the house is on fire! Don't you hear me, Harkins—my God!"
George Harkins was stone dead. It was Death that was acting the role of sentinel.