"I'll get you for this," said Stanley, his mouth twisted in pain. "You've broken my shoulder. I'll kill you."
The door to the inner sanctum swung open.
"What's happened?" cried Albert Peet in distress. "What's wrong with you, Stanley?"
"This dirty slob shot me in the shoulder."
"But how badly?" Peet was wringing his hands.
"Nothing serious," said Jaro. "He'll have his arm in a sling for a while. That's all."
"Stanley," said Mr. Peet. "You're bleeding all over my carpet. Why can't you go in the washroom. There's a tile floor in there. If you hadn't disobeyed this wouldn't have happened. You and your fights. Has anyone called a doctor? Where's Miss Webb? Miss Webb! Oh, Miss Webb! That girl. Miss Webb!"
Stanley climbed to his feet, swayed a moment drunkenly, then wobbled out a door on the left just as a tall brunette hurried in from the right. She had straight black hair which hung not quite to her shoulders, and dark brown eyes, and enough of everything else to absorb Jaro's attention.
"Oh!" exclaimed Miss Webb as she caught sight of the blood staining the carpet.