"Mainly reaction to Rivers's death. That was a
great blow to all of us; twenty-five thousand dollars' worth of blow. It
was a blow to me, too, but I'm not letting it throw me.... What were you
doing all afternoon?"
"Trying to keep the rest of our prospects out of jail. This
sixteenth-witted District Attorney you have in this county had the idea
he could charge Stephen Gresham with the killing. I had a time talking
him out of it, and I'm still not sure how far I succeeded. And I was
trying to get a line on where those pistols got to."
"Ssssh!" They reached the top of the stairs, and Rand saw Walters
approaching down the hall. "It was Colonel Rand, Walters; I let him in
myself. Are Mr. Varcek and Mr. Dunmore here, yet?"
"Mr. Dunmore is in the library, ma'am, and Mr. Varcek is upstairs, in his
laboratory. Dinner will be ready in three-quarters of an hour."
"Have you mixed the cocktails? You'd better do that. Serve them in about
twenty minutes. And you'd better go up and warn Mr. Varcek not to become
involved in anything messy before dinner."
Walters yes-ma'am'd her and started toward the attic stairway. Rand and
Gladys went into the gunroom; Rand turned to the left, picked a pistol
from the wall, and carried it with him as he guided Gladys toward the
desk in the corner.
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