“Suppose two of you take the door off its hinges,” went on Thorne. “We can carry Noyes home on that.” Boyd hesitated and looked at Anthony for orders. Thorne was quick to note their suspicious glances. “Who are you?” he asked, as Anthony returned from a tour of inspection.
“We are members of the United States Secret Service,” and again Anthony displayed his badge. “We came here to arrest a notorious counterfeiter.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” remarked Thorne dryly.
Anthony flushed scarlet. “I find enough contraband property here to convict the owner as a dangerous counterfeiter,” he said. “You have not yet explained your presence, Dr. Thorne.”
“My presence can be attributed to idle curiosity,” was Thorne’s tranquil answer as the men gathered about him. “I was passing the cabin, saw the door standing ajar, and entered. I had been here only a very few minutes when I heard a shot and tearing aside that screen,” pointing to it, “saw poor Noyes fall to the floor. I had just taken the revolver from him when you entered so spectacularly.”
Anthony did not miss a word of Thorne’s explanation. “You claim, then, that you did not know anyone else was in the cabin until you heard the shot?”
“I mean exactly that,” with emphasis. “I thought I was alone in the cabin. I haven’t the faintest idea what brought Dr. Noyes, the English surgeon who is visiting the Porters,” he interpolated, “to this cabin.”
“He can explain that when he regains consciousness,” exclaimed Anthony. “It will not take us long to carry him to the Porters’, if you think it safe to move him.”
“I do.” And Thorne made ready to rise from his place by Noyes. “By the way, before hearing the report of Noyes’ revolver, I heard a shot—who fired the first shot?”
“That is for you to explain.” Anthony stooped under a table and picked up a revolver. With a deft turn of his wrist he opened the breech. “One chamber has been fired.”