MacFarland suddenly started, and leapt to his feet. The doctor moved away, his face paling.
"What's the matter?" Gallifa asked, alarmed.
"Don't be so old womanish," MacFarland snapped. "I'm not catching it. I just thought of something. Cummings had a gun. Where did he get it?"
"The storeroom!" Gallifa exclaimed. "I'd forgotten we had weapons and ammo in the storeroom! If things got bad enough, we could wipe ourselves out. We'd better check."
"I'm going back to the hospital," Dr. Thorndyke said bluntly. "I'm going to lock the door. If anyone comes banging around he damn well had better know who he is and talk intelligently—or I'll slice him from his wishbone to his crotch." He stalked out.
Gallifa stared blankly after Dr. Thorndyke. It was funny hearing him talk this way. He had always thought of the doc as being rather mild-mannered. Damned flexible, humans!
VI
They found the door was torn off the storeroom. It hadn't even been secured. Someone had just been in a terrific hurry. There wasn't a single weapon left. MacFarland studied the disarray, then thoughtfully hefted a broad-bladed pick axe.
"I'm of the opinion," he said quietly, "that in a short time things are going to get a little rough around here."