"Are the Misses McIntyre still in the building?"

"They were in the court room just before we brought Turnbull's body
here," responded the deputy marshal. "I guess they are still
waiting, eh, doctor?"

Stone, thus appealed to, nodded. "I agree with Mr. Rochester," he
said, and the gravity of his manner impressed Ferguson. "It is
better for me to break the news of Mr. Turnbull's death to the young
ladies before bringing them here. Therefore, with your permission,
Ferguson - He got no further.

Through the outer entrance of the room came Helen McIntyre and her
sister Barbara, conducted by the same bowing patrolman who had
ushered them into the court room an hour before.

"My God! Too late!" stammered Rochester under his breath, and he
turned in desperation to Benjamin Clymer. The bank president's
state of mind at the extraordinary masquerade and sudden death of
his popular and trusted cashier bordered on shocked horror, which
had made him a passive witness of the rapidly shifting scene.
Rochester clutched his arm in his agitation. "Get the twins out
of here - do something, man! Don't you know that Turnbull was
in love with -"

His fervid whisper penetrated further than he realized and one of
the McIntyre twins looked inquiringly in their direction. Clymer,
more startled than his demeanor indicated, wondered if she had
overheard Rochester's ejaculations, but whatever action the banker
contemplated in response to the lawyer's appeal was checked by a