“Good Lord!” John Hale leaped to his feet but Latimer was before him in reaching his brother’s side.
“Some water—wine!” he called, and Ferguson bolted from the room in search of Anna, the waitress. He found her polishing silver in the dining room and at his breathless request she filled a glass with ice water and thrust it in his hand. Ferguson reached the library just as Latimer forced some cognac between Hale’s bloodless lips.
“He will revive in a minute,” he said, laying down the flask which John Hale, recovering his dazed wits, had taken from a cabinet in one corner of the library where his brother kept some wine secreted. “His pulse is better now—there,” as the powerful stimulant took effect. “He is coming to. Here, take a sip of this,” and Latimer snatched the glass of water out of Ferguson’s hand. Hale, his eyelids fluttering, drank slowly as Latimer tilted the glass gently against his lips.
With an effort Hale jerked himself erect and then leaned back, pushing aside, as he did so, Latimer’s supporting hand.
“I’m all right,” he protested weakly. “Just over-estimated my strength—wait.”
In the ensuing silence Detective Ferguson studied Robert Hale attentively; it was the first time he had seen the scientist at close quarters. There was something effeminate in Hale’s good looks and, in spite of his gray hair, Ferguson put him down in his estimation as belonging to the “pretty boy type.” The impression was enhanced by the stalwart appearance of John Hale; the brothers were in striking contrast, both in physical build and in mental equipment—one had achieved fame in his chosen profession, while the other had made a bare living as the result of hard work. Ferguson’s lips curled in contempt; the small, slight, middle-aged man was hardly an impressive figure.
Suddenly Robert Hale reached for the flask and Latimer gave it to him. Tilting his head backward, Hale took a long swallow, then laid the flask carefully on the table within easy reach.
“Now, John,” he began, “tell me of Austin.”
“I should have broken the news more gently,” John Hale spoke with contrition. “I should have remembered that you and Austin were great pals.”
His brother passed his hand across his lips. “We were—” He paused abruptly and did not complete his sentence. “Come, don’t be afraid, I have myself in hand; tell me the details.”