Atropin!  That was belladonna, simply another name for the drug.  Shirley had procured the stuff for use in his eyes.  Nevertheless, he had been aware, undoubtedly, of its deadly nature.  Passing by Kennedy and the rest of us, he had overheard Kennedy state that the murderer would be identified as soon as all could be assembled in the projection room.  The heavy man had not cared to face justice in so prosaic a manner.  With the same sense of the melodramatic which had led him to slay Stella Lamar in the taking of a scene, Werner in the photographing of another, he had preferred suicide and had selected the most spectacular moment possible for his last upon earth.

Yes, Shirley was guilty.  Rather than wait the slow processes of legal justice he had attempted suicide.  Now we raced to save his life, to preserve it for a more fitting end in the electric chair.

XXXI

PHYSOSTIGMIN

The first drug store we found was unable to supply us.  At a second we had better luck.  All in all, we were back at the Manton Pictures plant in a relatively few minutes, a remarkable bit of driving on the part of the district attorney.

Shirley was still in the set.  Kennedy at once administered the physostigmin, I thought with an air of great relief.

“This is one of the rare cases in which two drugs, both highly poisonous, are definitely antagonistic,” he explained.  “Each, therefore, is an antidote for the other when properly administered.”

Marilyn was chafing Shirley’s cold hands, tears resting shamelessly upon her lids, a look of deep inexpressible fear in her expression.

“Will—­will you be able to save him, Professor?” she asked, not once, but a dozen different times.

None of the rest of us spoke.  We waited anxiously for the first signs of hope, the first indication that the heavy man’s life might be preserved.  It was wholly a question whether the physostigmin had been given to him quickly enough.

Kennedy straightened finally, and we knew that the crisis was over.  Marilyn broke down completely and had to be supported to a chair.  Strong, willing arms lifted Shirley to take him to his dressing room.

At that moment Kennedy stood up, raising his voice so as to demand the attention of everyone, taking charge of matters through sheer force of personality.

“I have come here this afternoon,” he began, “to apprehend the man or woman responsible for the death of Miss Lamar and Mr. Werner, for the fire in the negative vault, and now for this attempt upon the life of Mr. Shirley.”

Not a sound was evident as he paused, no movement save a vague, uneasy shifting of position on the part of some of those who had been on the point of leaving.

“I have indisputable evidence of the guilty person’s identity, but, nevertheless, for reasons which I will explain to you I have not yet completed my identification.  To do so it is necessary that certain photographed scenes be projected on the screen and that certain other matters be made perfectly clear.  I am very anxious, you see, to eliminate the slightest possibility of error.