DEAD OR ALIVE?
An apologetic cough came through the entrance to the laboratory. It was nearing one o'clock of the following day.
Several minutes later it was repeated, to the intense annoyance of the scientist, who had left orders that he was not to be interrupted in his work under any circumstances.
At the third "ahem!" he raised his head and stared fixedly at the empty space between the doorjambs. The most determined optimist could not have spelled welcome in that look.
Peter, advancing his neck around the corner until one eye met that of his master, withdrew it hastily.
"Well, what is it?" came from the laboratory, in an irritated harsh voice.
Peter, in the act of retreating on tiptoe, turned, and once more cocked a solitary eye around the door-jamb. This one feature had the beseeching look of a dog trying to convey by his expression that not for worlds would he have got in the way of your boot.
"Beg pardon, sir, but there's a young—"
"Won't see him!"
"But, sir, it's a young lady—"