“Can you give us any help at all of your own knowledge? Can’t tell how reliable anyone else is in this case!”
“I can’t! My first clear recollection is coming up the front stairs between Stimson and Russell and being put to bed. Stimson had phoned for the doctor and he came very soon after and dressed my arm. He offered to send me a nurse, but Ethel was awake by that time and insisted on nursing me herself. Doctor Stanford said it would be all right.”
“Have you made any further investigations?”
“I have not!” Graham retorted with emphasis. “I’ve stayed coyly here in my bedroom, wishing to Heaven I had a revolver. I hadn’t any yearning to give anybody a second try at me, thank you!” Graham laughed apologetically. “The pain and shock bowled me over, I guess. It was a narrow escape. Ethel and that lucky swerve of mine just about saved my life!”
“Why Mrs. Graham?” asked Landis quickly. “She was asleep, wasn’t she?”
“No. She was dressing by that time. Stimson or somebody called to her and she ran in. The arrow had cut a big vein and I was bleeding like a stuck pig. Ethel ran across the hall to Miss Mount’s room for bandage, found the door locked and ran back and tore up one of my shirts and tied my arm up tight. I felt pretty faint. So I told them all that I felt nauseated—”
“All who? Who was in the room?” asked Bernard.
“I’m not sure; Russell and Stimson and Ethel of course and three or four more. The two girls were there, I think, and Allen. I don’t remember. Anyway, I had a crawling feeling that any one of them might have shot me, Lord knows why, so I cleared them all out—said I wanted to be alone and rest. I’d have liked to have Ethel stay, but I couldn’t very well insist on being alone and keep her, so I sent her down to get her dinner. I kept her back and told her to tell everybody that I didn’t feel like seeing anybody just then. Frankly, I was in a panic!”
“Then the doctor came up to see you?”