floor, eyes nearly closed, bleeding from a gash in the back of his head where he had struck the desk in his last fall and from a wound in his side which Dudley saw had been made by a bullet at very close range. He stared unbelievedly. But it must be true. Carmelita had shot the Hindu! Whether she had come here for that deliberate purpose, whether she had done it in self-defense, or whether the whole thing was an accident he had not the time nor evidence to discover. The main thing was to protect her at any cost.
He sensed the presence of other people near and looked up to find three Hindu servants staring in at the window. Dhinn, having at last located another key, now swung open the door leading from the study into the living-room. Dudley steadied his nerves with an effort and picked up the revolver from the floor.
"Send for a doctor at once," he said sharply to Dhinn, running his hand over the wounded man's body and ascertaining that his heart was beating faintly. Dhinn disappeared and did more than he was ordered. He telephoned for a doctor and then for the police. There was a box-like roadside station where a motorcycle policeman was on duty down the main highway about half a mile.
Dudley, recovering from the first shock, was pulling himself together rapidly, which was
