Kennedy followed quickly, unscrewing the
oxygen helmet as he went.
In the deserted living room we deposited our senseless burden,
while Kennedy, the helmet off now, bent over her.
"Quick--quick!" he cried to the officer, "An ambulance!"
"But the prisoner," the policeman indicated.
"Hurry--hurry--I'll take care of him," urged Craig, seizing the
policeman's pistol and thrusting it into his pocket. "Walter--help
me."
He was trying the ordinary methods of resuscitation. Meanwhile the
officer had hurried out, seeking the nearest telephone, while we
worked madly to bring Elaine back.
Again and again Kennedy bent and outstretched her arms, trying to
induce respiration. So busy was I that for the moment I forgot our
prisoner.
But Dan had seen his chance. Noiselessly he picked up the old
chair in the room and with it raised was approaching Kennedy to
knock him out.
Before I knew it myself, Kennedy had heard him. With a half
instinctive motion, he drew the revolver from his pocket and,
almost before I could see it, had shot the man. Without a word he
returned the gun to his pocket and again bent over Elaine, without
so much as a look at the crook who sank to the floor, dropping the
chair from his nerveless hands.
Already the policeman had got an ambulance which was now tearing
along to us.
Pages:
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226