He went through the bungalow to the dining-room still half expecting to find his brother-in-law awaiting him.  But the moment he entered, he had a shock.  A man in a rough tweed coat was sitting at the table in an odd, hunched attitude, almost as if he had fallen into the chair that supported him.

He turned his head a little at Tommy’s entrance, but not so that the light revealed his face.  “Hullo!” he said.  “That you, Ralston?  I’ve got a bullet in my left shoulder.  Do you mind getting it out?”

Tommy stopped dead.  He felt as if his heart stopped also.  He knew—­surely he knew—­that voice!  But it was not that of Everard or Barnes, or of any one he had ever expected to meet again on earth.

“What—­what—­” he gasped feebly, and went backwards against the door-post.  “Am I drunk?” he questioned with himself.

The man in the chair turned more fully.  “Why, it’s Tommy!” he said.

The light smote full upon him now throwing up every detail of a countenance which, though handsome, had begun to show unmistakable signs of coarse and intemperate habits.  He laughed as he met the boy’s shocked eyes, but the laugh caught in his throat and turned to a strangled oath.  Then he began to cough.

“Oh—­my God!” said Tommy.

He turned then, horror urging him, and tore back to Ralston, as one pursued by devils.  He burst in upon him headlong.

“For heaven’s sake, come!  That fellow—­it’s—­it’s——­”

“Who?” said Ralston sharply.

“I don’t know!” panted back Tommy.  “I’m mad, I think.  But come—­for goodness’ sake—­before he bleeds to death!”

Ralston came with a velocity which exceeded even Tommy’s wild rush.  Tommy marvelled at it later.  He had not thought the phlegmatic and slow-moving Ralston had it in him.  He himself was left well behind, and when he re-entered the dining-room Ralston was already bending over the huddled figure that sprawled across the table.

“Come and lend a hand!” he ordered.  “We must get him on the floor.  Poor devil!  He’s got it pretty straight.”

He had not seen the stricken man’s face.  He was too concerned with the wound to worry about any minor details for the moment.

Tommy helped him to the best of his ability, but he was trembling so much that in a second Ralston swooped scathingly upon his weakness.

“Steady man!  Pull yourself together!  What on earth’s the matter?  Never seen a little blood before?  If you faint, I’ll—­I’ll kick you!  There!”

Tommy pulled himself together forthwith.  He had never before submitted to being bullied by Ralston; but he submitted then, for speech was beyond him.  They lowered the big frame between them, and at Ralston’s command he supported it while the doctor made a swift examination of the injury.

Then, while this was in progress, the wounded man recovered his senses and forced a few husky words.  “Hullo,—­Ralston!  Have they done me in?”