"Five chambers loaded?" she asked innocently, unsuspectingly.
"Here," broke in Mixley, "let me show you." And he counted slowly: "One, two, three, four, five—all full, see?"
"Yes, five chambers," Mrs. Challoner agreed.
There was a pause in which Mixley looked meaningly at McGrath; then he said:—
"And one chamber empty?"
"Oh, yes," she acknowledged almost eagerly, as he placed his finger on it, "there's surely one chamber empty—I see it now."
McGrath hesitated, but Mixley went on:—
"Will you smell it please—just the end of it—the muzzle. What do you smell?"
Mrs. Challoner smiled faintly.
"A Fourth of July smell," she ventured; "gunpowder, of course."