"There is also blood there—a big spot of it on the floor."
"I found that," said Santoine.
"There is blood behind the table near the middle of the room."
"Ah! A man fired from near there, too!"
"There are cartridges on the floor—"
"Cartridges?"
"Cartridge shells, I mean, empty, near both those spots of blood. There are cartridge shells near the fireplace; but no blood there."
"Yes; the bullets?"
"There are marks everywhere—above the mantel, all about."
"Yes."
"There is a bar of iron with a bent end near the table—between it and the window; there are two flashlights, both extinguished."
"How was the safe opened?"
"The combination has been cut completely away; there is an—an instrument connected with the electric-light fixture which seems to have done the cutting. There is a hand-drill, too—I think it is a hand-drill. The inner door has been drilled through, and the catches drawn back."
"Who is this?"
The valet, who had been sent to Eaton's room, had returned with his report. "Mr. Eaton went from his room fully dressed, sir," he said to Santoine, "except for his shoes. I found all his shoes in his room."
During the report, the blind man felt his daughter's grasp on his arm become tense and relax and tighten
