"I will!" she flashed.
She darted out of the room and along the hall. He followed her with grim determination in his face. She seized the receiver from the hook and held it to her ear.
"Hello!" called Central.
"Give me long distance—Coaldale, Number—"
"No," commanded Mr. Wynne, and he placed one hand over the transmitter tightly. "Doris, you must not!"
"I will!" she flamed. "Let me alone!"
"You'll ruin everything," he pleaded earnestly. "Don't you know that they get every number I call? Don't you know that within fifteen minutes they will have that number, and their men will start for there?"
She faced him with blazing eyes.
"I don't care," she said deliberately, and the white face was relieved by an angry flush. "I will know what has happened out there! I must! Gene, don't you see that I'm frantic with anxiety? The money means nothing to me. I want to know if he is safe."
His hand was still gripped over the transmitter. Suddenly she turned and tugged at it fiercely. Her sharp little nails bit into the flesh of his fingers. In a last desperate effort she placed the receiver to her lips.