on the man's arm. There was a flash, a
sharp report, and blue smoke curled up toward the veranda, but Prescott
stood still, untouched.

"Be quick!" screamed Muriel. "He's trying to fire again!"

There was no time to be particular. Colston seized the elder man,
dragging him backward several paces before he wrenched the pistol from
him. Then he paused, breathless, looking about in a half-dazed fashion.
Everything had happened with startling suddenness, and the scene under
the veranda was an impressive one. His wife clutched one of the pillars
as if unnerved. Gertrude leaned against the sidewalk rail, her face tense
with horror, and Jernyngham stood with a slackness of carriage which
suggested that power of thought and physical force had suddenly left him.

"Jack, are you hurt?" cried Muriel clinging to Prescott.

The tension was relieved by the appearance of the commissioned officer,
who sprang out of the hotel with the constable close behind him.

"Shut the door and keep them in!" he ordered.

The constable obeyed, but his efforts were wasted, for men were already
hurrying out through the separate entrance to the bar and from an
adjoining store. Others ran out from the houses, and the street was
rapidly filling with an eager crowd.

"Stand back there!" called the officer sharply. Then he turned to the
group under the veranda. "Now what's this? I heard a shot!"

"Yes," said Colston, pulling himself together, though his manner was
confused; "there was one. I don't know how it happened--it was a surprise
to us all. I don't think the pistol's safe; it goes off too easily.
However, the most important thing is that nobody is hurt."

"That's fortunate. I'll take the weapon from you," replied the officer
dryly.

When Colston had given it to him, as if glad to be rid of it, the officer
noted the positions and attitudes of the others before he turned to
Prescott.

"Can you tell me anything?" he asked.

"I don't think so," Prescott answered. "Of course, I saw the flash, but
the bullet didn't come anywhere near me."

Then Gertrude's nerve gave way. All that had happened was her work; she
had, when her father was wavering and questioning the justice of his
suspicions, driven them back more firmly into his mind, and as a result
of this he had come near to killing an innocent man. Overwhelmed by the
thought, she swayed unsteadily and fell back against the rails.

"Miss Jernyngham is fainting!" Mrs. Colston cried, hurry