"They have left you alone?" queried Ballard, with a glance around the great room.
"Just this moment. The colonel and Miss Cauffrey and Miss Dosia were with me when the buzzer went off. Whoever sent you up pressed the button down stairs. Neat, isn't it. How's Bromley? I hope you didn't come to tell us that his first day in camp knocked him out."
"No; Bromley is all right. You are the sick man, now."
Wingfield's white teeth gleamed in a rather haggard smile.
"I have looked over the edge, Ballard; that's the fact."
"Tell me about it—if you can."
"There isn't much to tell. We were all crowding around the electric furnace, taking turns at the coloured-glass protected peep-hole. The colonel had warned us about the wires, but the warning didn't cut any figure in my case."
"You stumbled?"
The man in bed flung a swift glance across the room toward the corridor door which Ballard had left ajar.
"Go quietly and shut that door," was his whispered command; and when Ballard had obeyed it: "Now pull your chair closer and I'll answer your question: No, I didn't stumble. Somebody tripped me, and in falling I grabbed at one of the electrodes."