Now not another
word, Doris Stanton!" She stamped her foot and beat her hand hard on the
table in a manner that smacked considerably of the Senator's violence when
his emotions were stirred. "I'm ashamed of myself for acting like this. I
hate such displays! But I mean to protect myself. And now keep quiet, if
you please. I have something of real importance to attend to, even if you
haven't."
She went to a niche in the wall and pulled out the private telephone
instrument; the pressure of a button was required to put in a call. After
the prolonged wait, Senator Corson's voice sounded, high-pitched, urgent.
His appeal was broken short off.
Lana stared at Mrs. Stanton while making futile efforts to get a reply to
frantic questions; fear paled the girl's face and widened her eyes.
"What has happened, Lana?"
"It's father! He asked for help! It's something--some danger--something
dreadful." She clung to the telephone for several minutes, demanding,
listening, hoping for further words--the completion of his orders to her.
Then, abandoning her efforts, she made haste to call the sheriff of the
county, using the study extension of the regular telephone.
The customary rattle informed her that the line was in use, after she had
called for the number, looking it up in the directory.
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