"Thank you. Good bye."
"Good bye."
He hung up the receiver and settled down to the grim task of counting the passing minutes which were draining his life as though each minute were a drop of blood let from an artery. And all the company he had for it was this poor devil on the bed who grimaced as he breathed.
He folded his arms. If this, too, was a part of the cost he must pay it like a man.
CHAPTER XVI
The Fourth Day
The morning of Tuesday, May twenty-eighth, found Donaldson still sitting in the chair, facing the form upon the bed. He had not undressed, and had slept less than an hour. He was now waiting for eight o'clock, when he had received permission from the nurse to ring up Miss Arsdale again.
With some tossing Arsdale had slept on without awaking fully enough to be conscious of his surroundings. Now, however, Donaldson became aware that the fellow's brain was clearing. He watched the process with some interest. It was an hour later before the man began to realize that he was in a strange room, and that another was in the room with him. It was evident that he was trying hard, and yet with fear of whither the road might lead him, to trace himself back. He had singled out Donaldson for some time, observing him through half-closed eyes, before he ventured to speak.
"Where am I?" he finally faltered huskily.