Horrified, I had risen at his first word. And now, as I understood the full purport of his dreadful message, my hair stirred under my hat and I gazed at him, appalled.
"What is to be done?" he demanded. "Shall I telephone for the police?"
"Do you actually believe," I faltered, "that this unfortunate man has murdered Boomly?"
"I don't know. I looked over the transom, but I couldn't see Professor Boomly. Dr. Quint has locked the door."
"And he's tearing up the carpet?"
"Like a lunatic. I didn't want to call in the police until I'd asked you. Such a scandal in Bronx Park would be a frightful thing for us all—" He hesitated, looked around, coldly, it seemed to me, at Mildred Case. "A scandal," he repeated, "is scarcely what might be expected among a harmonious and earnest band of seekers after scientific knowledge. Is it, Mil—Miss Case?"
Now, I don't know why Mildred should have blushed. There was nothing that I could see in this young man's question to embarrass her.
Preoccupied, still confused by the shock of this terrible news, I looked at Jones and at Mildred; and they were staring rather oddly at each other.
I said: "If this affair turns out to be as ghastly as it seems to promise, we'll have to call in a detective. I'll go back immediately—"
"Why not take me, also?" asked Mildred Case, quietly.