pointed out the sixth bullet, which, slightly deflected from its course and imbedded in the plaster of the wall, they had missed before. This bullet was close to the floor in the north wall; the remaining five were about the height of a man's chest.
"And these drops of blood"—the detective's eyes followed along the floor the trail of blood from the box in the middle of the room leading direct to the middle of the blank wall—"are the marks of that last shot?"
"The first drops from his hand—yes!"
The detective bent to the floor. The drops of blood, greatest in number close to the box, made, however, a plainly discernible track to the foot of the north wall, where it was hung with tapestry. McAdams, putting out his hand to lift this tapestry, drew back.
