On the Borderland

by F. Britten Austin

Her father swung round on her in a burst of anger.

“Good God, Hetty!—Are you mad?”

She looked wildly at him.

“The ghost!—the ghost!”

He laughed despite his genuine wrath.

“Great heavens, what nonsense it all is!—What are you thinking of?—You can’t shoot a ghost!”

But Hetty had sunk on to a chair and was sobbing hysterically.

* * * * *

In the luxuriously furnished room in Berlin Kranz was speaking excitedly into the telephone.

“Excellenz!” he called. “Excellenz!—Are you there?—Quickly!—Karl says he will be with us in ten minutes!” He glanced toward the girl sleeping in the big chair. “Quickly!”