The spoken name had all the effect of a galvanic shock. "Alison!" Dexter kicked the blanket from his legs, and in the darkness blundered across the room. He reached the bunk, drew a match from his pocket, and struck a light. As the flame flared in the darkness he stared downward and saw the boy's motionless form stretched at full length on the mattress. From all appearances, the patient had not changed position since the evening before. He was lying in his blankets, facing the wall, with eyes closed, temples slightly flushed, and breathing evenly through half open mouth. Seemingly, he was sound asleep.
But unquestionably it was his voice that had been heard; furthermore, Dexter could have sworn that he was talking over a telephone.
However, there was no telephone here: none, at least, that the corporal was able to find. And such an instrument scarcely could have been hidden in the second it took him to spring across the room. Nevertheless, he settled his doubts by looking. He searched under the bunk and behind the bunk, and then leaned over to assure himself that there were no lumpy objects stuffed in the mattress. He was prodding at the pillow, when he felt a sudden movement, and was aware that Smith was looking up at him with a dull vacuous stare.
"What is it?" the young man drowsily mumbled.
"Whom were you talking to just now?" demanded the corporal.
"I?" Smith blinked his lids, and gazed about him with an expression of utter blankness. "What do you mean?"
"I heard something like a click, and a minute later you spoke: warning somebody not to come here—to go somewhere else."
"You heard me?" The boy started to raise himself in the bunk, and then fell back with a groan, grasping his injured arm. "Oh!" he sighed, "I—I nearly forgot. Must have had a good night. What time is it?"
"You were speaking to some one named Alison," persisted the policeman.
"Alison?" Smith shook his head slowly, regarded his inquisitor with heavy, sleep-dulled eyes. "You must have been dreaming—or else I was. If I was talking, I must have been having a nightmare. I don't remember—"