Kearns glanced about him. There were four windows to the apartment; two of these were closed; the others were open. All four windows were securely shaded with heavy blinds. Kearns crossed over and carefully examined each window-casing and shade.
“Was it through a window?” continued the King.
“Possibly, Sire,” answered Kearns.
“You say possibly,” exclaimed the King, somewhat petulantly, “yet how is it possible? On the ground directly beneath those windows are two sentinels; on the roof directly above are two other sentinels. The trees of the park are many feet away and from them no shot could be fired which could possibly strike at the angle this shot struck. Besides, you see the shades are undisturbed; no bullet has passed through them. How do you account for all this?”
“I’ll know far more by this time to-morrow, Sire,” answered Kearns calmly, “after I’ve concluded my investigations. In the meantime, I ask that nothing here be disturbed.”
“And you will speak then to-morrow?” exclaimed the King eagerly.
“It was agreed, Sire,” said Kearns, with dignity, “in order to ensure my usual success, that I should be permitted to pursue my usual methods. I’ll speak, Sire, at my usual time.”
“Speak at your usual time!” repeated the King, apparently somewhat bewildered. “And when is that?”
Kearns touched the foot of the prostrate dog lightly with his own.
“When,” he answered with cold determination, “when I hold the assassins within my net—securely within my grasp!”