Six SEVEN DIALS AGAIN

Bundle stared at him. And very slowly the world, which for the last threequarters of an hour had been upside down, shifted till it stood once morethe right way up. It was quite two minutes before Bundle spoke¹, but whenshe did it was no longer the panic-stricken girl but the real Bundle, cool,efficient and logical.
“How could he be shot?” she said.
“I don’t know how he could,” said the doctor dryly. “But he was. He’s gota rifle bullet in him all right. He bled internally, that’s why you didn’t no-tice anything.”
Bundle nodded.
“The question is,” the doctor continued, “who shot him? You sawnobody about?”
Bundle shook her head.
“It’s odd,” said the doctor. “If it was an accident, you’d expect the fellowwho did it would come running to the rescue—unless just possibly hedidn’t know what he’d done.”
“There was no one about,” said Bundle. “On the road, that is.”
“It seems to me,” said the doctor, “that the poor lad must have been run-ning—the bullet got him just as he passed through the gate and he camereeling on to the road in consequence. You didn’t hear a shot?”
Bundle shook her head.
“But I probably shouldn’t anyway,” she said, “with the noise of the car.”
“Just so. He didn’t say anything before he died?”
“He muttered a few words.”
“Nothing to throw light on the tragedy?”
“No. He wanted something—I don’t know what—told to a friend of his.
Oh! Yes, and he mentioned Seven Dials.”
“H’m,” said Doctor Cassell. “Not a likely neighbourhood for one of hisclass. Perhaps his assailant came from there. Well, we needn’t worryabout that now. You can leave it in my hands. I’ll notify the police. Youmust, of course, leave your name and address, as the police are sure towant to question you. In fact, perhaps you’d better come round to the po-lice station with me now. They might say I ought to have detained you.”
They went together in Bundle’s car. The police inspector² was a slow-speaking man. He was somewhat overawed by Bundle’s name and ad-dress when she gave it to him, and he took down her statement with greatcare.
“Lads!” he said. “That’s what it is. Lads practising! Cruel stupid, themyoung varmints are. Always loosing off at birds with no consideration foranyone as may be the other side of a hedge.”

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