“Jim Warner. Come just as—”
A click in the receiver.
The doctor waits a minute. Then he says “Hello.” No answer. He waits another minute. “Hell-o!!”
Silence. “Damn that girl—she's cut us off.” He hangs up the receiver and rings the bell sharply. He takes it down and hears a voice say leisurely, “D'ye get them?”
“Yes! What in h-ll did you cut us off for?”
“Wait a minute—I'll ring 'em again,” says the voice, hasty and obliging, so potent a thing is a man's unveiled wrath. She rings 'em again. Soon the same voice says, “Are you there yet, Doctor?”
“Yes, now what is it!”
The voice proceeds and the doctor listens putting in an occasional “Yes” or “No.” Then he says, “All right—I'll be out there in a little bit.” He hangs up the receiver and his wife falls asleep again. The doctor dresses and goes out. The house is in darkness. All is still. In about five minutes Mary is suddenly, sharply awake. A slight noise in the adjoining room! She listens with accelerated heart-beats. The doctor has failed to put on the night latch. Some thief has been lying in wait watching for his opportunity, and now he has entered. What can she do. Muffled footsteps! she pulls the sheet over her head, her heart beating to suffocation. The footsteps grope their way toward her room! Great Heaven! A hand fumbles at the door knob. She shrieks aloud.
“What on earth is the matter!”
O, brusque and blessed is that voice!