"Yes, I can remember what he said next," I went on. "He stood over
you threateningly. I could see then the thing he held in his right
hand was a loaded revolver. In his left was a bottle, a small
medical phial.

"'If you stir, I'll shoot you,' he said; 'I'll shoot you like a dog!
You fool, you've sealed your own fate! What an idiot to let me know
Richard Wharton's dead! Now, hear your fate! Nobody saw you come
into this house to-night. Nobody shall see you leave. Look here,
sir, at this bottle. It's chloroform: do you understand?
Chloroform--chloroform--chloroform! I shall hold it to your
nose--so. I shall stifle you quietly--no blood, no fuss, no nasty
mess of any sort. And when I'm done,--do you see these flasks?--I
can reduce your damned carcase to a pound of ashes with chemicals in
half-an-hour! You've found out too much. But you've mistaken your
man! Courtenay Ivor, say your prayers and commend your soul to the
devil! You've driven me to bay, and I give you no quarter!'"






CHAPTER XXIII.

THE FATAL SHOT