"What's the matter with you?" he asked. "Found something, Mr. District
Attorney?"
Robinson moved to one side, jerking his thumb at Silas Blackburn. The coat and hat slipped from Doctor Groom's hand. His mouth opened. His great body crept slowly back until the shoulders rested against the wall. He placed the palms of his hands against the wall as if to push it away in order to assure further retreat. Always the little, infused eyes remained fixed on the man who had been his friend. Such terror was chiefly arresting because of the great figure conquered by it.
Blackburn thrust his pipe in his mouth. He laughed shakily.
"That fellow Groom will have a stroke."
The Doctor's greeting had the difficult quality of a masculine sob.
"Silas Blackburn!"
"Who do you think?" the other whined. "You going to try to frighten me out of my skin, too? These people are trying to say I've been lying dead in the old room. Hoped you'd have enough sense to set them right and tell me what it's all about."
The doctor straightened.
"You did lie dead in the old room."
His harsh, amazed tones held an unqualified conviction.