Natalie Sumner Lincoln

“ Mitchell brushed her unceremoniously aside and looked in the car. The sight of Rodgers’ unconscious form called for action.
“Come here, Allen,” he called. “Take hold—gently, man, gently.”
It seemed an age to Kitty before the three men carried their burden up the long terraced steps and into the house.
“Go up to the bedroom at the head of the stairs,” she directed. “Mandy,” to the colored woman who, aroused by the noise of tramping feet and voices, appeared at the top of the staircase. “Show them into the spare bedroom and help them get the bed ready for Mr. Rodgers. ”

“ Could the young officer have slipped unseen into the parlor and concealed the bottle of poison while he, Mitchell, and Coroner Penfield were superintending the removal of Miss Baird’s body from the library to her bedroom?
Bah! the idea was absurd. A man would not return to the scene of a murder with incriminating evidence in his pocket when he had had hours in which to throw away the poison without arousing suspicion. But supposing Wallace had, in the horror of the moment, forgotten the bottle? Mitchell shook his head in disbelief. ”

“ Some one’s breaking the law!” exclaimed Allen, attracted by the oncoming car whose headlights brightened the whole street.
With a grinding of brakes and totally regardless of stopping on the wrong side of the street, the driver drew up to the curb close to the three men and Mitchell recognized Kitty Baird sitting behind the steering wheel.
“Come here, quick!” she called. “Quick!”
“Kitty!” Potter sprang to her side. “What’s wrong, child? What’s happened? Don’t look so terrified.”
“Ted has been shot!” Kitty was on the sidewalk and around the car with lightning speed. ”