as trouble then, after all!

"Upstairs--first bedroom to the right." His teeth chattered. Surely, as
a man sowed he reaped.

Joe went up the staircase. At the top, on the landing, he confronted
Wilson. He fired at him without a word--saw him fling up his arms and
fall back, striking first the wall, then the floor.

The buzz of conversation on the porch suddenly ceased. Joe put his
revolver in his pocket and went quietly down the stairs. The crowd
parted to let him through.

Carlotta, crouched in her room, listening, not daring to open the door,
heard the sound of a car as it swung out into the road.

CHAPTER XXV

On the evening of the shooting at Schwitter's, there had been a late
operation at the hospital. Sidney, having duly transcribed her lecture
notes and said her prayers, was already asleep when she received the
insistent summons to the operating-room. She dressed again with flying
fingers. These night battles with death roused all her fighting blood.
There were times when she felt as if, by sheer will, she could force
strength, life itself, into failing bodies. Her sensitive nostrils
dilated, her brain worked like a machine.

That night she received well-deserved praise. When the Lamb, telephoning
hysterically, had failed to locate the younger Wilson, another staff
surgeon was called. His keen eyes watched Sidney--felt her capacity, her
fiber, so to speak; and, when everything was over, he told her what was
in his mind.

"Don't wear yourself out, girl," he said gravely. "We need people like
you. It was good work to-night--fine work. I wish we had more like you."

By midnight the work was done, and the nurse in charge sent Sidney to
bed.

It was the Lamb who received the message about Wilson; and because he
was not very keen at the best, and because the news was so startling, he
refused to credit his ears.

"Who is this at the 'phone?"

"That doesn't matter. Le Moyne's my name. Get the message to Dr. Ed
Wilson at once. We are starting to the city."

"Tell me again. I mustn't make a mess of this."

"Dr. Wilson, the surgeon, has been shot," came slowly and distinctly.
"Get the staff there and have a room ready. Get the operating-room
ready, too."

The Lamb wakened then, and roused the house. He was incoherent, rather,
so that Dr. Ed got the impression that it was Le Moyne who had been
shot, and only learned the truth when he got to the hospital.

"Where is he?" he demanded. He liked K.,