"It's '.38,'" touching the gun lightly; "the figures are '.38.'"
Mixley fell back admiringly.
"There now--no one can say we ain't been fair. You saw us take it from
him; you examined it; and you told us what you saw. That's fair. You're
fair and we're fair--see?"
"Yes. But what of it?" asked Shirley and Miriam in one breath.
McGrath opened his eyes in mock wonder.
"Why bless me, didn't you know? This here Colonel Hargraves was shot by
a bullet that came out of a thirty-eight calibre revolver. That's all.
We wanted to be fair."
Shirley rubbed vigorously the hand with which she had touched the gun.
"Fair!" she cried bitterly. "And Mr. Murgatroyd sanctions such
methods--will use us for evidence--make a case by us?"
But even then Miriam did not understand. She was watching Mixley, who
had returned to Challoner; watching Mixley and McGrath, who were lifting
Challoner up and dropping him--watching them draw him up to a standing
posture and then throw him back again on the sofa, calling the while:--
"Wake up! Wake up!"
"I've got to sleep," was all they could get out of Challoner.
At last, however, a lift and a drop a trifle more vigorous than the
preceding ones caused Challoner to open his eyes and look about him.
Then he closed them again.
"Are you James Lawrence Challoner?" asked Mixley loudly, peremptorily.
"I am," Challoner answered; "now leave me alone."
And now again the bell; and a moment later Murgatroyd, the prosecutor,
stood in the doorway. The heat of much haste was on his brow; he looked
neither at Mrs. Challoner nor at Shirley; it was toward Challoner and
his men that he directed his gaze.
"Has he talked?" Murgatroyd asked, standing over Challoner.
"No," answered the men, "he ain't awake yet."
"Lift him to his feet," ordered the prosecutor.
The men did so.
And then it was that the women heard him say in a tone that cut into
their souls:--
"Challoner, wake up! This is Murgatroyd, prosecutor of the pleas." It
was a summons; Challoner obeyed it. He opened his eyes, closed them,
yawned stupidly, and then, awake, stood squarely on his feet without any
help.
"Hello, Murgatroyd!" he said.
"Challoner," said Murgatroyd severely, "remember that I am not here as
your friend--I am the prosecutor, do you hear?"
"I understand," said Challoner.
"Very well then," went on Murgatroyd, "you know why I am here. You are
charged--I charge you now, Challoner, with the murder of Colonel Richard
Hargraves. Do you understand me?"
"Perfectly," was Challoner's reply. "You want to take me into custody?
All right--only let me sleep when I get there, will you? I----"
"Wait a minute, Challoner," persisted Murgatroyd. "It's my duty to
inform you that anything you say will be used against you. You must not
forget that I am the prosecutor."
Miriam came forward quickly.
"Oh, Laurie, dear, don't say anything, just yet," she cried in alarm.