gan to open a little. The Hindu turned slightly and groaned.
"Who shot you?" Officer Delaney bellowed almost into his ear.
"Now, officer," the doctor remonstrated, "that can wait a little."
"Not if this man is going to die." He turned to Rao-Singh and voiced his own hastily formed conclusion. "Did this man shoot you?" He grasped Dudley by the sleeve of his coat.
The Hindu's eyes opened a little further, enough to comprehend Dudley's presence, and a grim smile played round his pain-tightened lips. There was silence a moment, and then he seemed about to speak. Were his lips forming Carmelita's name? Dudley thought they were! He must fend that off at any cost.
"Yes, I shot him, officer," he said quietly.
"I found the gun in his hand," Dhinn put in eagerly, growing bolder now that his master was conscious to back him.
In the right hand of Rao-Singh, which lay exposed away from the eyes of the doctor and the policeman, was a little piece of torn black chiffon still tightly clutched. It had come from Carmelita's gown, Dudley was sure as he caught sight of it. She had shot him in self-defense probably. That was some consolation then as far as her part in the matter went. He
