. . . . . . . .
My outcry brought a veritable battalion of aid. The hotel
proprietor, the negro waiter, and several others dashed upstairs,
followed shortly by a portly policeman, puffing at the exertion.
"What's the matter, here?" he panted. "Ye're all under arrest!"
Kennedy quietly pulled out his card case and taking the policeman
aside showed it to him.
"We had an appointment to meet this man--in that Clutching Hand
case, you know. He is Miss Dodge's footman," Craig explained.
Then he took the policeman into his confidence, showing him the
dart and explaining about the poison. The officer stared blankly.
"I must get away, too," hurried on Craig. "Officer, I will leave
you to take charge here. You can depend on me for the inquest."
The officer nodded.
"Come on, Walter," whispered Craig, eager to get away, then adding
the one word, "Elaine!"
I followed hastily, not slow to understand his fear for her.
Nor were Craig's fears groundless. In spite of all that could be
done for her, Elaine was still in bed, much weaker now than
before. While we had been gone, Dr. Hayward, Aunt Josephine and
Marie were distracted.
More than that, the Clutching Hand had not neglected the
opportunity, either.
Suddenly, just before our return, a stone had come hurtling
through the window, without warning of any kind, and had landed on
Elaine's bed.
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