Cub Sterling had twined himself around an uncomfortable office chair and was smoking cigarettes. His left shoulder was hysterically high.
He watched his father’s innocent repose with a visible irritation. He had struck no matches for over an hour. The smoking was incessant and the old butt served to light the new cigarettes.
Dr. Sidney Mattus sat stiffly in a straight chair. His head rested upon one corner of the back and his feet tucked into one of the chair rungs. He watched all of the men and held his eyes past them, apparently upon the coming dawn which could just be discerned through the high window.
Dr. Henry MacArthur sat across the double desk from Bear Sterling. He had shielded his brow from the glaring light and was soothing it like a man in constant pain. Occasionally he lifted his free hand and twisted his left ear thoughtfully.
No man had spoken for many minutes.
The air of the room was heavy with smoke, tension, the odor of formaldehyde and the chilliness of dawn.
It housed all the suppressed horror of a death chamber, and its occupants had the appearance of men awaiting execution.
Dr. MacArthur’s shoulders were hunched as though prepared for a blow; even in Bear Sterling’s slumber there was a sense of watchful waiting.
Cub was thinking. Shall I keep my mouth shut and watch that night student nurse...? She is a niece of Miss Kerr ... remember that ... old fellow!
Dr. MacArthur raised his head as though to answer and said: