"Open that door," he ordered again, and moved towards it.
The man obeyed on the instant.
It was two days before the investigation into the tragedy at the Elysian Fields released Dr. Bill. Being on the spot, and being one of the most skilful medical men in Leaping Horse, the Mounted Police had claimed him, a more than willing helper.
In two issues the Leaping Horse Courier had dared greatly, castigating the morality of the city, and the Elysian Fields in particular, under "scare" headlines. For two days the public found no other topic of conversation, and the "shooting" looked like serving them indefinitely. They had been waiting for this thing to happen. They had been given all they desired to the full. A hundred witnesses placed themselves at the disposal of the Mounted Police, and at least seventy-five per cent of them were more than willing to incriminate Pap Shaunbaum if opportunity served.
Nor was John Kars idle during that time. His attorneys saw a good deal of him, and, as a result, a campaign to track down the instigator of this shooting was inaugurated. And that instigator was, without a shadow of doubt,—Pap Shaunbaum.
Kars saw nothing of Bill during those two days of his preoccupation. But the second morning provided him with food for serious reflection. It was a brief note which reached him at noon. It was an urgent demand that he should take no definite action through his legal advisers, should take no action at all, in fact, until he, Bill, had seen him, and conveyed to him the results of the investigation. He would endeavor to see him that night.
Kars studied the position carefully. But he committed himself to no change of plans. He simply left the position as it stood for the moment, and reserved judgment.
It was late at night when Bill made his appearance. Kars was waiting in his apartment with what patience he could. He had spent a busy day on his own mining affairs, which usually had the effect of wearying him. For the last two or three years the commercial aspect of his mining interests came very nearly boring him. It was only the sheer necessity of the thing which drove him to the offices of the various corporations he controlled.
But the sight of his friend banished every other consideration from his mind. The shooting of Alec Mowbray dominated him, just as, for the present, it dominated the little world of Leaping Horse.
He thrust a deep chair forward in eager welcome, and looked on with grave, searching eyes while the doctor flung himself into it with a deep, unaffected sigh of weariness.