He rose to his feet.
“But the first thing to do is to get him into the house,” he declared. “Have you a bed or a couch on the first floor, Mrs. Simpson?”
“Yes, there’s a couch, doctor.”
“Good! Make that ready for him, then, and we’ll bring him right in.”
Mrs. Simpson and the maid rushed away to do the young physician’s bidding, and several women accompanied them. The men waited for perhaps five minutes, in order to allow time to get the couch in readiness. Then they lifted Cray’s inert bulk as carefully as they could and bore it slowly toward the house.
It was no easy task, for the detective weighed close to two hundred pounds, but their united efforts were equal to it, and the unconscious man was soon lying, partially undressed, on the comfortable couch in one of the lower rooms.
A little later, every one had left the house, with the exception of the doctor, who continued to work over Cray for some time.
“I’ve done all I can at present, Mrs. Simpson,” he announced finally. “If you don’t mind, though, I’ll stay with him for the present, so that I shall be on hand if any change comes.”
He paused and smiled frankly.