They had both seen the shadowy form of a man walking slowly past the
entrance to Helen's home.
To Helen, there was something strangely familiar in the dim outlines of
the moving figure. As they drove slowly on, passing the man who was now
in the deeper shadows of the trees and bushes which, at this spot grew
close to the fence, she turned her head, keeping her eyes upon him.
Suddenly a flash of light stabbed the darkness. A shot rang out. And
another.
Helen saw the man she was watching fall.
With a cry, she started from her seat; and before McIver, who had
involuntarily stopped the car, could check her, she had leaped from her
place beside him and was running toward the fallen man.
With a shout "Helen!" McIver followed.
As she knelt beside the form on the ground McIver put his hand on her
shoulder. "Helen," he said, sharply, as if to bring her to her senses,
"you must not--here, let me--"
Without moving from her position she turned her face up to him. "Don't
you understand, Jim? It is Captain Charlie."
Two watchmen on the Ward estate, who had heard the shots, came running
up.
McIver tried to insist that Helen go with him in his roadster to the
house for help and a larger car, but she refused.
When he returned with John, the chauffeur and one of the big Ward
machines, after telephoning the police and the doctor, Helen was
kneeling over the wounded man just as he had left her.
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