“Oh! Mr. Yelverton! The mystery of it all is driving me to distraction,” the poor lady went on. “If you can do anything to help me I shall thank you forever.”
“Listen, Mrs. Shaylor,” I said over the wire. “Will you kindly repeat the description of that stranger who called to see Thelma on the day previous. It is important—very important!”
She gave a detailed description of the fair-haired young man and the clothes he wore.
“Did she appear to know him?”
“Oh, yes! It was evident that they had met before,” came the voice over the telephone. “He greeted her merrily, and asked to be allowed to speak with her in private. Later, I heard Thelma’s voice raised in exultant laughter.”
“Have you never seen the young man before?” I asked.
“Never. He was a total stranger to me. But Thelma knew him without a doubt. If you can help me to re-discover her it is all I can ask of you, Mr. Yelverton. You can imagine my distress. Why she does not let me hear from her I cannot think.”
“Perhaps Stanley—who is evidently in hiding, forbids it,” I said in an effort to relieve her anxiety, though the fact of her disappearance in itself showed some sinister influence at work.
“Perhaps so, Mr. Yelverton. Yet if that is the case it is surely very unfair to me!”
“Time’s up,” chipped in the voice of the operator at the exchange. “Sorry! Time’s up!”