"Go get the first-aid kit, Sergeant," the Colonel said. "And hurry. Mr.
Stephen's been shot, too."
"Yessuh!" Sergeant Williamson executed an automatic salute and
about-face and raced from the room. The Colonel picked up the telephone
on the desk.
The County Hospital was three miles from "Greyrock"; the State Police
substation a good five. He dialed the State Police number first.
"Sergeant Mallard? Colonel Hampton, at 'Greyrock.' We've had a little
trouble here. My nephew's wife just went _juramentado_ with one of my
pistols, shot and wounded her husband and another man, and then shot and
killed herself.... Yes, indeed it is, Sergeant. I wish you'd send
somebody over here, as soon as possible, to take charge.... Oh, you
will? That's good.... No, it's all over, and nobody to arrest; just the
formalities.... Well, thank you, Sergeant."
The old Negro cavalryman re-entered the room, without the sword-cane and
carrying a heavy leather box on a strap over his shoulder. He set this
on the floor and opened it, then knelt beside Stephen Hampton.
Pages:
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38