"I couldn't wait any longer, Lester," he began. "It seems an age since I've seen you. I'd have sent for you before this, but I knew that you were working."
"Yes," I smiled; "I was working."
"Sit down and tell me about it," he commanded. "All about it—every detail."
The door opened as he spoke, and Dr. Jenkinson came in.
"Doctor," I queried, "how far is it safe to indulge this sick man? He wants me to tell him a story."
"Is it a good story?" asked the doctor.
"Why, yes; fairly good."
"Then tell it. May I stay?"
"Certainly," said Mr. Royce and I together, and the doctor drew up a chair.
So I recounted, as briefly as I could, the events of the past two days, and the happy accident which had given me the address I sought. Mr. Royce's face was beaming when I ended.