In response to a knock on the door they found Mr. Salper standing outside in the bitter night air looking so white and shaken that they were startled.
He came just inside the door and spoke in quick, jerky sentences like a man talking in his sleep.
“My wife is dangerously ill,” he said. “She seems so much worse tonight that there is imperative need of a doctor. There is no doctor up here, and in this weather it would take too long to summon one. The trained nurse who is with her suggests that we try to get in touch with a doctor by radio and ask his advice. The idea is far-fetched, but it seems about our only hope. If that fails——” he paused and Joe broke in eagerly.
“My father’s a doctor, Mr. Salper,” he said, and there was pride in his voice.
“A doctor, eh?” returned the broker quickly. “Oh, if only he were here!”
“I don’t see how you are going to get hold of your father,” broke in Herb. “He’s in Clintonia. Even if he got our message, through Doctor Dale or somebody else with a receiving set, he couldn’t send any message here.”
“But he isn’t in Clintonia!” shouted Joe, eagerly. “He went to Newark, New Jersey, to attend some sort of medical convention and see if he couldn’t find out more about the epidemic that hit Clintonia.”
“Newark!” came simultaneously from Joe’s chums.
“Why, the big radio sending station is there!” exclaimed Bob.
“Why can’t you send a message to that station and ask them to get hold of your father?” broke in Jimmy.