Gordon let the curtain slip back into place, and with a warning gesture to the dog, who was ready for action, he tiptoed across the room to the table, in a drawer of which he kept his own revolver.  He opened the drawer softly, and rummaged with careful hands.  No revolver was there.  He made sure.  He even opened other drawers and rummaged, but the weapon was certainly missing.  He stood undecided for a moment.  Then he went softly out of the room, bidding in a whisper the dog to follow.  He crept upstairs and paused at a closed chamber door.  Then he opened it very carefully.  Mrs. Ewing at once spoke.  “Is that you, dear?” she said.

“Yes, I wanted to tell you not to be frightened, dear, if you should hear a shot or the dog bark.”

There was a rustling in the dark room.  Mrs. Ewing was evidently sitting up in bed.  “Oh, Tom, what is it?” she whispered.

Gordon forced a laugh.  “Nothing at all,” he replied, “except there’s a fox or something out in the yard, and Jack is wild.  I may get a shot at him.  Do you know where my revolver is?”

“Why, where you always keep it, dear, in the table drawer in the office.”

“I don’t seem to see it.  I guess I will take your little pistol.”

“Oh, Tom, I am sorry, but I know that won’t go off.  Clemency tried it the other day.  You remember that time Emma dropped it.  I think something or other got bent.  You know it was a delicate little thing.”

“Oh, well,” said Gordon carelessly, “I dare say I can find my revolver.”

“I don’t see who could have taken it away.” said Mrs. Ewing.  “I am sorry about my pistol, because you gave it to me too, dear.”

“I’ll get another for you,” said Gordon, “Those little dainty, lady-like, pearl-mounted weapons don’t stand much.”

“I am feeling very comfortable, dear,” Mrs. Ewing said in her anxious, sweet voice.  “You will be careful, won’t you, with your revolver, with that dog jumping about?”

“Yes, dear.  I dare say I shall not use the revolver anyway, but don’t be frightened if you should hear a little commotion.”

“No, Tom.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Yes, I think I can.  I do feel rather sleepy.”

Gordon closed the door carefully and retraced his steps to the office, the dog at his heels.  He slipped the curtain again and looked out.  The man still stood watching in the driveway.  Gordon had never been at such a loss as to his best course of action.  He was absolutely courageous, but here he was unarmed, and he could have no reasonable doubt that if he should go out, he would be immediately shot.  In such a case, what of the woman upstairs?  And, moreover, what of James and Clemency?  He thought of any available weapon, but there was nothing except his own stick.  That was stout, it was true, but could he be quick enough with it?  His mad impulse to rush out unarmed except with that paltry thing could hardly be restrained, but he had to think of other lives beside his own.