"Stand up, man, don't fall about like that or you may do yourself some injury!" for Mr.Shrimplin seemed about to collapse once more.
"Old man McBride, Colonel--if he ain't dead I wish I may never see death!" "Dead!" cried the colonel.

"Archibald McBride dead!" He released his hold on Mr.Shrimplin and took a step toward the door; Shrimplin, however, detained him with a shaking hand, though he was calmer now.
"Colonel, you'd better be careful, he's lying there in a pool of blood; some one's killed him for his money! How do we know the murderer ain't there!" This conjecture was made to the empty street, for Colonel Harbison had entered the store.
"Why does he want to leave me like that!" wailed Shrimplin, and his panic threatened a return.
He dragged himself to the door.

Here he paused, since he could not bring himself to enter, for before his eyes was the ghastly vision of that old man huddled on the blood-stained floor.

He heard the colonel's steps echo down the long room, and when their sound ceased he knew he was standing beside the dead man.

After what seemed an age of waiting the steps sounded again, and a moment later the colonel's tall form filled the doorway.
"Andy!" said the colonel.
Mr.Shrimplin turned with a start.