“There’s nothing more we have to ask you, Mr. Drukker. And really, y’ know, there’s no need to work yourself up. It merely occurred to me that your mother’s scream might help to establish the exact time of the murder.”
“What could her scream have to do with the time of Robin’s death? Didn’t she tell you she saw nothing?” Drukker appeared exhausted, and leaned heavily against the table.
At this moment Professor Dillard appeared in the archway. Behind him stood Arnesson.
“What seems to be the matter?” the professor asked. “I heard the noise here, and came down.” He regarded Drukker coldly. “Hasn’t Belle been through enough to-day without your frightening her this way?”
Vance had risen, but before he could speak Arnesson came forward and shook his finger in mock reprimand at Drukker.
“You really should learn control, Adolph. You take life with such abominable seriousness. You’ve worked in interstellar spatial magnitudes long enough to have some sense of proportion. Why attach so much importance to this pin-point of life on earth?”
Drukker was breathing stertorously.
“These swine——” he began.
“Oh, my dear Adolph!” Arnesson cut him short. “The entire human race are swine. Why particularize? . . . Come along. I’ll see you home.” And he took Drukker’s arm firmly and led him down-stairs.
“We’re very sorry we disturbed you, sir,” Markham apologized to Professor Dillard. “The man flew off the handle for some unknown reason. These investigations are not the pleasantest things in the world; but we hope to be through before long.”