Apparently
she had been stabbed in the lungs, for the wound was on the right
side. There she lay, poor woman, in her tawdry finery, crumpled
up, battered and bruised, dead amongst the ruins of her home.
Jane immediately began to scream again.
"Stop her, Hope," cried Random, who was kneeling by the body and
feeling the heart. "Mrs. Jasher is not dead. Hold your noise,
woman, and go for a doctor." This was to Jane, who, prevented
from screaming, took to whimpering.
"I had better go," said Hope quickly; "and I'll go to the Fort
and alarm the men. Perhaps they may catch the man."
"Can you describe him?"
"Of course not," said Archie indignantly. "I only caught a
glimpse of him by the feeble light of a lucifer match. Then he
leaped through the window and I after him. I made a grab at him,
but lost him in the mist. I don't know in the least what he is
like."
"Then how can anyone arrest him?" snapped Random, raising Mrs.
Jasher's head. "Give what alarm you like, but race for Robinson
up the village. We must save this poor woman's life, if only to
learn who killed her."
"But she isn't dead yet--she isn't dead yet," wailed Jane,
clapping her hands, while Hope, knowing the value of time,
promptly ran out of the house to get further assistance.
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