Chapter 12
Sunday, January 16, 1887I was in a half-doze when the sound of a rifle blast from the upper floor brought me to my feet. The sound was followed by yells and running footsteps.
The girls bolted out of their beds, looking at me with terrified eyes.
I quickly shifted aside the chair and grabbed my gun. “Stay here. Lock the door behind me.”
There were more footsteps overhead now. One of the maids shrieked and was quickly shushed. I took the servants’ stairs two at a time. Cullom stood in the third-floor hallway, grasping the rifle and yelling at the butler. “What were you thinking, man? We were supposed to grab him, not shoot him without provocation.” Webb looked down at his shoes and muttered something I couldn’t catch.
“What’s happened?” I asked.
Cullom gritted his teeth. “C
