“No way out?” queried the doctor, briefly.
“None, except by passing the very spot where we all were when Betty ran back to the house.”
“Where is she, Landon?”
The two men stared at each other, both absolutely at a loss to answer the question.
“Well,” and Varian pulled himself together, “this won’t do. It’s a case for the police,—how shall we get at them?”
“I don’t know anything about the police, but if you telephone the inn or the clubhouse they’ll tell you. The local doctor is Merritt,—I know him. But he couldn’t do anything. Why call him when you’re here?”
“It’s customary, I think. You call Merritt, will you, and then I’ll speak to the innkeeper.”
The telephoning was just about completed, when a fearful scream from upstairs announced the fact that Minna Varian had awakened from her opiate sleep and had returned to a realization of her troubles.
Slowly Doctor Varian rose and went up the stairs.
He entered the bedroom to find Minna sitting up in bed, wild-eyed and struggling to get up, while Janet urged her to lie still.