CHAPTER XXXV
AN UNDELIVERED MESSAGE
Dawn, which came as slowly as the dawns of winter, brought a returning Bill in the car of a physician whom he had found after much forgetful wandering. A lifeless body lay upon the bed.
Stephen looked curiously at the old doctor who descended stiffly from his car.
"You don't know me, Dr. Weller?"
"No."
"I'm Albert Lanfair's son."
"How do you happen to be here?"
"I lost the road and came in to ask directions, and once here, could do nothing but stay." He meant to exhibit his hand, but thought better of it. He must get home without wasting time. He had not undone the bandage, he felt less pain, and in the cheerful light of day believed that he had exaggerated the seriousness of his condition. If trouble appeared, however, he wished to be at home.