Her voice ceased to vibrate over the wires as suddenly as if those same wires had been cut.
“Yes?” he cried after an instant. “Yes, Miss Searle? Hello, hello!”
There was no answer. Listening with every faculty at high tension, he fancied that he detected a faint, abrupt sound, like a muffled sob. On the heels of it came a click and the connection was broken.
In his anxiety and consternation he swore violently.
“Well, what’s the trouble?”
Iff stood at his side, now wide-awake and quick with interest. Hastily Staff explained what had happened.
“Yes,” nodded the little man. “Yes, that’d be the way of it. She had trouble, but managed to get to the telephone; then somebody grabbed her—”
“Somebody! Who?” Staff demanded unreasonably.
“I don’t really know—honest Injun! But there’s a smell of garlic about it, just the same.”
“Smell of garlic! Are you mad?”