"Then you mean you did not find the body," Avery charged. "Some one, passing through this car a minute or so before you, must have found him!"
Connery attended without replying.
"And evidently that man dared not report it and could not wait longer to know whether Mr.—Mr. Dorne, was really dead; so he rang the bell!"
"Ought we keep Dr. Sinclair any longer from the examination, sir?" Connery now seized Avery's arm in appeal. "The first thing for us to know is whether Mr. Dorne is dying. Isn't—"
Connery checked himself; he had won his appeal. Eaton, standing quietly watchful, observed that Avery's eagerness to accuse now had been replaced by another interest which the conductor's words had recalled. Whether the man in the berth was to live or die—evidently that was momentously to affect Donald Avery one way or the other.
"Of course, by all means proceed with your examination, Doctor," Avery directed.
As Sinclair again bent over the body, Avery leaned over also; Eaton gazed down, and Connery—a little paler than before and with lips tightly set.