"That's all right. I'm glad you are here," said Burton. He guessed that Watson, at the last moment, had needed some confirmation of this irregular project, and he was glad that he had been inspired to appeal to Ralston rather than to any one else. Ralston had imagination, and therefore was better equipped for seeing a truth that is not yet revealed.
"I was afraid I might be late," he added. And then he told of his explorations in unknown territory and of the outcry he had heard from the house on Larch Street.
Watson listened with professional attention. "Did it sound like a cry for help?" he asked.
"It sounded like the cry of some one in terror. It might have been some one in a nightmare. There was no other sound and no disturbance."
"You don't know the house?"
"No. It was a two-story frame house, narrow and high, with a porch in front. It was on the west side of Larch, and the next cross-street this way from it is James. I noticed that as I came along."
"Why, that's Selby's house!" exclaimed Ralston. "The plot thickens. I don't know why Selby shouldn't have a nightmare if he wants to, as well as any other man, but it looks rather significant that he should have a nightmare on this particular night, doesn't it, now?"
Watson was looking at Burton with a puzzled air.
"If anything has happened to Selby, we might as well know it," said Burton, answering his look.
"I'll telephone to the station," said Watson, and stepped out of the room.