“Objection! I should think I damned well have! I, for one, don’t care for your way of making up prescriptions.”
“No? Well, if you should be taken ill, Kenneth, and I have to prescribe, the medicine shall be made up at a chemist’s and delivered in a sealed bottle. Now, if you will excuse me, I should like to get on with my book.”
“But Margaret says she has just been up-stairs to find out if Ethel wanted anything, and her bedroom door is locked and there was no reply when she knocked,” Ralph urged, looking anxiously up at Ethel’s bedroom window, in which the blinds were drawn.
“My dear young friend, I told her to lock it myself. I do hope that Margaret hasn’t waked her up. Now please be sensible and let the poor girl have what rest she can get. You can do no earthly good by making any bother. If I have poisoned Ethel’s medicine—which I take it is the friendly suggestion you are both of you making—she is dead by now, and nothing that you or any one else could do would save her. If I haven’t, then isn’t it rather a pity to wake her up merely to satisfy your curiosity? That’s the logic of the position, but if you feel it to be your duty, go and have a word with Inspector Brown about it. He is just packing up his treasures prior to departure.”
This, I felt, was taking things a little too calmly, and I could understand the frown that had gathered on Ralph’s dark face while the doctor was speaking. Could not his behavior, which I had described to myself as calm and unruffled, perhaps be more aptly labeled callous and cold-blooded? And if so, what revision of ideas and estimates of possibilities might not then be necessary? Kenneth had turned round and called out to the inspector at once as he was on the point of opening the door into Dalehouse Lane. Ralph was hesitant, but Kenneth took him by the arm and dragged him across the lawn.
While I watched them talking to the inspector, wondering with interest what that stolid individual would advise them to do, The Tundish had returned to his book. He was absorbed immediately—lost to the world. He had given them his advice and that apparently was the end of it as far as he was concerned.
After a few minutes’ conversation Inspector Brown departed. A brief consultation between the two boys followed, and then Kenneth came back to us alone.
“We have decided to do as you asked us,” he said tersely.
“Thank you. I’m very glad to hear it.”
Kenneth came a step nearer. “But if anything happens to Ethel—I’ll—I’ll kill you.” He spoke very slowly and leaned over toward the doctor. His fists were clenched, and for a moment I thought that he was going to strike. The Tundish never moved a muscle.