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THE BREATH OF SCANDAL

Gregg's thought jumped to Marjorie, pressing the bell and listening for response.

"Never mind! Did they hear the shot downstairs?"

"Those people are away."

"Did any one else?"

"Nobody seemed to."

"All right." Gregg stepped forward and passed her and went through the dining room to the hall, where he found a bedroom door open; he glanced in and saw two men in shirt sleeves working over Mr. Hale, who was lying in bed with the upper part of his body bared. Neither the man whom Gregg recognized as Doctor Grantham nor the other looked up and Gregg immediately went on to the living room.

This was a large room with a hardwood floor almost completely covered by Oriental rugs of quiet patterns and furnished with a pretty table in dark mahogany, a lounge and chairs and a woman's writing desk, closed; with a graceful, small grand piano and bench. The lighting was from large, shaded lamps in soft colors; and there were a few—and only a few—good etchings on the walls; altogether it was an agreeable, pleasant room in good, quiet taste, Gregg observed, while he searched for signs of the attack which had been made there. Mrs. Russell followed him and aided him by staring with a shudder at stains on one of the rugs near the piano. Gregg pulled up this rug, pushed others about to cover the place and carried the stained rug to a closet off the hall and thrust it in.

"Do you see anything else to be got out?" he demanded of Mrs. Russell.

"No," she said, staring at him; then, dully, she asked, "Why?"