Call Mr. Fortune | Page 4

Reggie said, and
paused a moment watching them. Emotion plays queer tricks with faces.
They were both in the grip of emotions.
Sir Lawson Hunter is rather fat and his legs are rather short. His
complexion is greyish and his eyes look boiled. People call him
dyspeptic, though his capacious stomach has never known an ache: or
imagine that he drinks, though alcohol and physicians are his chief
abominations. His European reputation as a surgeon has been won by
knowing his own mind.
Reggie met him at the door and took him upstairs before that puzzling
pair, the Archduke and the Archduchess, had a sight of him. "Glad you
could come, sir. It's an odd case."
"Every case is odd," said Sir Lawson Hunter.
"He was knocked down by a car. The -- "
"If he was, I can find it out for myself. Damme, Fortune, don't bias me.
Most unprofessional. That's the worst of general practice. You fellows
must always be saying something."
Reggie held his peace. He knew Sir Lawson's little ways, having been
his house surgeon. The faithful Holt was turned out of the room. Sir
Lawson Hunter went over the senseless body with his usual speed and
washed his hands.
"Splendid animal," he remarked. "They run to that, these Pragas. I
remember his uncle's abdominal muscles. Heroic. Well. He was
walking. A big car driven fast hit him from behind on the right side,
fractured two ribs, and knocked him down. Impact of his head on the
road has caused a serious concussion. That car should have stopped."
Reggie smiled. "Oh, one of the odd things is that it didn't."

"There's a damned lot of road hogs about, my boy." said Sir Lawson
heartily. He was himself fond of high speed. "Well. They sent out, I
suppose. Found him lying on his face unconscious."
"No, sir."
"What?" Sir Lawson jumped. "He was lying on his back." "Oh, that's
absurd."
"Yes, sir. But I've seen his valet who found him."
"These fellows have no observation," Sir Lawson grunted, but there
was some animation in his boiled eye. "Damme, Fortune, he ought to
have been on his face."
"Yes, sir."
"Miracles don't happen."
"No, sir."
"Now these abrasions on the legs. As if the car had been driven at him
again while he lay. A queer thing. Or have there been two cars at him?
"
"And there is this too, sir." Reggie held out the sliver of steel.
" I saw the puncture. I was coming to that. Humph! Whoever put this in
meant business."
"And didn't know his job. It slipped along the bone and missed
everything."
Sir Lawson turned the thing over. "A woman's hatpin. About half a
woman's hatpin."
"Fresh fracture. Broke as it was pushed in."
"They're a wild lot," said Sir Lawson, and smiled. "You have no nerves,

Fortune?"
"I believe not, sir."
"This ought to be the making of you. You want shaking up. You must
stay in the house. By the way, who's in the house?"
"The Archduchess, of course -- "
"Ianthe. Yes. Aunt's in a mad-house. Ianthe. Yes. Crazy on motoring.
Drives her own car. And have you see Ianthe - since?" Sir Lawson
nodded at the body on the bed.
"She is very excited."
"Is she really?" Sir Lawson laughed. "Is she, though? How surprising!''
"She is surprising, sir."
"What? What? Be careful, my boy. Handsome creature, isn't she?"
"Yes, sir." Reggie declined to be amused. "The Archduke Leopold is
staying with them."
"Leopold. He's the dandy entomologist. He's tame enough. Well, he's
the head of the house after this fellow. Better tell him." He blinked at
Reggie. "You have nurses you can trust? Well, we'll stay in the room
till one comes, my boy. Our friend of the hatpin won't miss a chance.
These Royal families they're a criss-cross of criminal tendencies.
Hohenzollerns, Hapsburgs, Pragas, Wittelsbachs - look at the heredity."
"There was another running-down case here tonight. The man was
killed - fractured skull. He was left on the road too. And another queer
thing - he was much the same build as the Archduke Maurice."
"Good Gad!" Sir Lawson was startled out of his omniscient manner, an
event unknown in Reggie's experience. "There's something devilish in
it. Fortune. One murder-the wrong man dead - and then try again at
once the same way. Imagine the creature looking at that poor dead

wretch and jumping on the car again to drive it on at the other man.
Diabolical! Diabolical!"
"I don't think I have much imagination, sir," said Reggie, who was not
impressed by ineffective emotion.
There was a gentle tap at the door, a nurse came and was given her
instructions, and the two men went down to the Archduke Leopold.
He had changed his clothes. He