Part 27 (1/2)
Abruptly, in a fit of witless agitation, he crossed to the divan, caught the sleeper by the shoulder and shook him till he wakened--till he rolled over on his back, grunted and opened one eye.
”Look here!” said Staff in a quaver--”I've been asleep!”
”You've got nothing on me, then,” retorted Iff with pardonable asperity.
”All the same--congratulations. Good _night_.”
He attempted to turn over again, but was restrained by Staff's imperative hand.
”It's four o'clock, and after!”
”I admit it. You might be good enough to leave a call for me for eleven.”
”But--d.a.m.n it, man!--that cab hasn't come--”
”I can't help that, can I?”
”I'm afraid something has happened to that girl.”
”Well, it's too late to prevent it now--if so.”
”Good G.o.d! Have you no heart, man?” Staff began to stride distractedly up and down the room. ”What am I to do?” he groaned aloud.
”Take unkie's advice and go bye-bye,” suggested Iff. ”Otherwise I'd be obliged if you'd rehea.r.s.e that turn in the other room. I'm going to sleep if I have to brain you to get quiet.”
Staff stopped as if somebody had slapped him: the telephone bell was ringing again.
He flung himself across the room, dropped heavily into the chair and s.n.a.t.c.hed up the receiver.
A man's voice stammered drowsily his number.
”Yes,” he almost shouted. ”Yes--Mr. Staff at the 'phone. Who wants me?”
”Hold the wire.”
He heard a buzzing, a click; then silence; a prolonged _brrrrp_ and another click.
”h.e.l.lo?” he called. ”h.e.l.lo?”
His heart jumped: the voice was Miss Searle's.
”Mr. Staff?”
It seemed to him that he could detect a tremor in her accents, as if she were both weary and frightened.
”Yes, Miss Searle. What is it?”
”I wanted to rea.s.sure you--I've had a terrible experience, but I'm all right now--safe. I started--”