Carroll tried again to rise, and made a despairing gasp. “Oh, my God!” he said. “I have lost the last train out. There isn't time to get down to the ferry, and there is that poor child all alone there, and she won't know—”
“You can send a telegram,” suggested the doctor. “Now, Mr. Carroll, don't get excited.”
“She will be all right,” said Allbright.
“What is it?” asked the down-stairs woman, coming to the door.
“His daughter is all alone in the house, I guess, and he's worried about her,” explained Allbright.
“There ain't nothin' goin' to eat her, if she is, is there?” inquired the down-stairs woman.
“I'll run with a telegram,” said Allbright, eagerly, to the doctor.
But at that moment Carroll lapsed into unconsciousness. The excitement had been too much for him. He lay as if asleep.
“Where does he live?” asked the doctor, of Allbright.
“I don't know exactly. Somewhere out on the Pennsylvania Railroad.”