"Billy Hicks," he said slowly in a dazed voice, "Billy Hicks, the man I was to sell out to, is de—I knew it—This afternoon when he phoned—something told me—but I wouldn't believe it."
Slowly he put the telegram in its envelope, and then put the envelope into his pocket; but the dazed look never left his eyes, and his face was grey white.
"Doctor," he said, turning his eyes at last, "as sure as you live, somebody else is doing my thinking for me in this house."
Dr. McPherson's heavy eyebrows met in an earnest frown as he studied Frederik.
"What?" he queried.
"To-night—here in this room," Frederik went on in a voice full of awe, "I thought I saw my uncle there——"
He pointed toward the desk with a little shudder.
"Eh?" said the doctor, with popping eyes, coming a step nearer. "You really mean that you thought you saw Peter Grimm?"
"And just before I—I saw him—I—I—had the strangest impulse to go to the foot of the stairs and call Kitty—give her the house—and run—run—get out."
"Oh!" cried the doctor sarcastically. "A good impulse. I see! Some one else must have been thinking for you—certainly."