Elusive Isabel | Page 8

entered the torso just
below the ribs on the left side.
"It's a clean wound," the physician was explaining. "The bullet passed
through. There's no immediate danger."
Señor Alvarez opened his eyes, and stared about him in bewilderment;
then alarm overspread his face, and he made spasmodic efforts to reach
the inside breast pocket of his coat. Mr. Grimm obligingly thrust his
hand into the pocket and drew out its contents, the while Señor Alvarez
struggled frantically.
"Just a moment," Mr. Grimm advised quietly. "I'm only going to let
you see if it is here. Is it?"
He held the papers, one by one, in front of the wounded man, and each
time a shake of the head was his answer. At the last Señor Alvarez
closed his eyes again.

"What sort of paper was it?" inquired Mr. Grimm.
"None of your business," came the curt answer.
"Who shot you?"
"None of your business."
"A man?"
Señor Alvarez was silent.
"A woman?"
Still silence.
With some new idea Mr. Grimm turned away suddenly and started out
into the hall. He met a maid-servant at the door, coming in. Her face
was blanched, and she stuttered through sheer excitement.
"A lady, sir--a lady--" she began babblingly.
Mr. Grimm calmly closed the door, shutting in the wounded man, Chief
Campbell and the others. Then he caught the maid sharply by the arm
and shook some coherence into her disordered brain.
"A lady--she ran away, sir," the girl went on, in blank surprise.
"What lady?" demanded Mr. Grimm coldly. "Where did she run from?
Why did she run?" The maid stared at him with mouth agape. "Begin at
the beginning."
"I was in that room, farther down the hall, sir," the maid explained.
"The door was open. I heard the shot, and it frightened me so--I don't
know--I was afraid to look out right away, sir. Then, an instant later, a
lady come running along the hall, sir--that way," and she indicated the
rear of the house. "Then I came to the door and looked out to see who it
was, and what was the matter, sir. I was standing there when a man--a
man came along after the lady, and banged the door in my face, sir. The

door had a spring lock, and I was so--so frightened and excited I
couldn't open it right away, sir, and--and when I did I came here to see
what was the matter." She drew a deep breath and stopped.
"That all?" demanded Mr. Grimm.
"Yes, sir, except--except the lady had a pistol in her hand, sir--"
Mr. Grimm regarded her in silence for a moment.
"Who was the lady?" he asked at last.
"I forget her name, sir. She was the lady who--who fainted in the
ball-room, sir, just a few minutes ago."
Whatever emotion may have been aroused within Mr. Grimm it
certainly found no expression in his face. When he spoke again his
voice was quite calm.
"Miss Thorne, perhaps?"
"Yes, sir, that's the name--Miss Thorne. I was in the ladies'
dressing-room when she was brought in, sir, and I remember some one
called her name."
Mr. Grimm took the girl, still a-quiver with excitement, and led her
along the hall to where Gray stood.
"Take this girl in charge, Gray," he directed. "Lock her up, if necessary.
Don't permit her to say one word to anybody--anybody you understand,
except the chief."
Mr. Grimm left them there. He passed along the hall, glancing in each
room as he went, until he came to a short flight of stairs leading toward
the kitchen. He went on down silently. The lights were burning, but the
place was still, deserted. All the servants who belonged there were
evidently, for the moment, transferred to other posts. He passed on
through the kitchen and out the back door into the street.

A little distance away, leaning against a lamp-post, a man was standing.
He might have been waiting for a car. Mr. Grimm approached him.
"Beg pardon," he said, "did you see a woman come out of the back
door, there?"
"Yes, just a moment or so ago," replied the stranger. "She got into an
automobile at the corner. I imagine this is hers," and he extended a
handkerchief, a dainty, perfumed trifle of lace. "I picked it up
immediately after she passed."
Mr. Grimm took the handkerchief and examined it under the light. For
a time he was thoughtful, with lowered eyes, which, finally raised, met
those of the stranger with a scrutinizing stare.
"Why," asked Mr. Grimm slowly and distinctly, "why did you slam the
door in the girl's face?"
"Why did I--what?" came the answering question.
"Why did you slam the door in the girl's face?" Mr. Grimm repeated
slowly.
The stranger stared in utter amazement--an amazement