Mr. Grimm obligingly thrust his
hand into the pocket and drew out its contents, the while Senor Alvarez
struggled frantically.
"Just a moment," Mr. Grimm advised quietly. "I'm only going to let you
see if it is here. Is it?"
He held the papers, one by one, in front of the wounded man, and each
time a shake of the head was his answer. At the last Senor Alvarez
closed his eyes again.
"What sort of paper was it?" inquired Mr. Grimm.
"None of your business," came the curt answer.
"Who shot you?"
"None of your business."
"A man?"
Senor Alvarez was silent.
"A woman?"
Still silence.
With some new idea Mr. Grimm turned away suddenly and started out into
the hall. He met a maid-servant at the door, coming in. Her face was
blanched, and she stuttered through sheer excitement.
"A lady, sir--a lady--" she began babblingly.
Mr. Grimm calmly closed the door, shutting in the wounded man, Chief
Campbell and the others. Then he caught the maid sharply by the arm and
shook some coherence into her disordered brain.
"A lady--she ran away, sir," the girl went on, in blank surprise.
"What lady?" demanded Mr.
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