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Two Surtaines against two Neals, my mother and me." The light of slaying was in her eyes, as she stiffened her arm. Just a fraction of an inch the arm swerved, for a streak of light was darting toward her. Hal had taken the only chance. He had flung his cane, whirling, in the hope of diverting her aim, and had followed it at a leap. The two shots were almost instantaneous.
"They'll throw the tableware at you," said McGuire Ellis quietly: "at least they ought to, if they don't." The two Surtaines stared at him in surprise. "Who are you," continued the journalist, "to talk standards of honesty in journalism to those boys?" "He's their boss: that's all he is," said Dr. Surtaine weightily.
He whirled swiftly upon the Surtaines. "By God, I'd like to write her story!" he cried. The outburst was but momentary. Instantly he was his cool, capable self again. "You've had experience in this sort of thing before, I suppose?" he inquired of Dr. Surtaine. "Yes. No! Whaddye mean?" blustered the quack. "Only that you'll know how to fix the police and the coroner." "No call for any fixing."
Veltman was willing to do penance himself, in any possible way, but he insisted that, since the Surtaines shared his guilt, they, too, must make amends, before his dead mistress could rest in her grave. Apprised by Veltman of the whole wretched story, Hale secretly sympathized with this view of the Surtaines' responsibility.
Surtaine's employees, a woman under the protection of his roof, even though it were but the factory roof that, indeed, would be a shock to his feudal conception of business honor. Such dismal considerations the Doctor had suppressed during an unusually uncomfortable dinner, on a hot and thunder-breeding evening when both of the Surtaines had painfully talked against time.
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