Miss Cornelia rose to answer it automatically. “The house phone!” she said. Then she stopped. “But we’re all here.”
They looked attach other aghast. It was true. And yet—somehow—somewhere—one of the other phones on the circuit was calling the living-room.
Miss Cornelia summoned every ounce of inherited Van Gorder pride she possessed and went to the phone. She took off the receiver. The ringing stopped.
“Hello—hello—” she said, while the others stood rigid, listening. Then she gasped. An expression of wondering horror came over her face.
CHAPTER TEN
THE PHONE CALL FROM NOWHERE
“Somebody groaning!” gasped Miss Cornelia. “It’s horrible!”
The detective stepped up and took the receiver from her. He listened anxiously for a moment.
“I don’t hear anything,” he said.
“I heard it! I couldn’t imagine such a dreadful sound! I tell you—somebody in this house is in terrible distress.”
“Where does this phone connect?” queried Anderson practically.