"Quick!" screamed Alix, the first to recover her voice. "The telephone! Call the drug store. Bill Foss is there."
She ran swiftly out into the hall.
"Come back!" cried Mrs. Strong. "What are you doing? Don't open that door! He's got a pistol, Alix!"
Even as she spoke, the report of a pistol shot came to their ears. As Alix stopped short, her hand outstretched to clutch the door knob, a second report came.
"Oh, my God!" she cried. "He has killed Courtney! He has shot Courtney!"
By this time, her companion had reached her side. She dragged her back from the door.
"Killed Courtney? What's the matter with you? Why do you say he has killed—"
"Don't you see—can't you understand? It was Courtney who surprised him. That's why he ran. He shot,—oh, let go of me! Let go of me, I say!"
"I'll do nothing of the sort," cried Mrs. Strong. "Do you want to get shot? Come away from this door!"
A door slammed against the wall at the back of the house. Some one came running through the dining-room. First the cook, then the little waitress, dashed into the hall.