“A telespatch, missy,” said Eben, limping into the room. “A telespatch collect fer Mrs. D. Dexter, an’ the boy say sign right thar.”
Mary Louise scrambled to her feet.
“In a minute, Uncle Eben! The boy will have to wait until I read my telegram. Why it’s a wireless!” she cried excitedly. “A wireless from Danny! Just think, Uncle Eben, a message from way out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It just says: ‘Love, Danny.’ But that is enough. Oh, Grandpa Jim, do you know this is a wireless from Danny?”
“You mean your husband? A message from the spirit world! Because he is dead, you know—as dead as dead——”
The old man stood up, looking wildly in the eyes of his granddaughter.
“I know he is dead—drowned, I think—because, last night while I slept, I saw him in the water—and if he is not dead why are you making a widow’s bonnet for yourself?”
Suddenly Colonel Hathaway crumpled up and lay in a pitiful heap on the floor. Mary Louise, her nerves overwrought by the long strain under which she had been living, gave a shrill scream, but immediately controlled herself.
“Run quick for Mr. Conant, Uncle Eben, and get Miss Irene too—tell her I need her. I’ll telephone the doctor myself. Call Aunt Sally to come to Grandpa Jim.”
Colonel Hathaway was stretched out on the rug in front of the fire with Mary Louise doing what she could to restore consciousness to the tired brain, when Dr. Coles arrived.
The old man was carried to his room and placed in his large old tester bed.