“Why not? He has an extension to his man’s bedroom.”
“Then do ring again, Louie. I am anxious about him.”
This time Stapleton was more successful, for after two futile attempts the operator got through, and a sleepy, rather irritated voice asked huskily:
“Hello! hello! Who is that ringing?”
“It’s Mr. Stapleton, James. I am sorry to wake you up, but can you tell me if Mr. La Planta has come in?”
“If you will please to hold on, sir,” the voice replied in a different tone, “I will ascertain and let you know.”
For some minutes Stapleton waited with the receiver glued to his ear. He was beginning to think the man had gone to sleep again, when suddenly he heard him returning. He sounded as if he were running.
“Are you there, sir?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. La Planta is lying on his sofa, sir, fast asleep. I’ve called him and shaken him, but he won’t wake up. The light in his room was full on. He must have been drugged or something. He is breathing very heavy, very heavy indeed, sir. I’m going to ring up the doctor.”