"Doctor!" I cried in a trembling voice. "What have you done to Professor
Boomly?"
He paused in his carpet ripping and looked around at us with a terrifying
laugh.
"I've settled _him_!" he said. "If you don't want to get all over dust
you'd better keep out--"
"Quint!" I cried. "Are you crazy?"
"Pretty nearly. Let me alone--"
"Where is Boomly!" I demanded in a tragic voice. "Where is your old
friend, Billy Boomly? Where is he, Quint? And what does _that_ mean--that
pool of blood on the floor? Whose is it?"
"It's Bill's," said Quint, coolly ripping up another breadth of carpet
and peering under it.
"What!" I exclaimed. "Do you admit that?"
"Certainly I admit it. I told him I'd terminate him if he meddled with my
Silver Moon eggs."
"You mean to say that you shed blood--the blood of your old
friend--merely because he meddled with a miserable batch of butterfly's
eggs?" I asked, astounded.
"I certainly did shed his blood for just that particular thing! And
listen; you're in my way--you're standing on a part of the carpet which
I want to tear up. Do you mind moving?"
Such cold-blooded calmness infuriated me.
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