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Rohmer, Sax, 1883-1959

"âst"

I started nervously. That sound
awakened ghastly memories, and I thought of the man who only a few
hours before had met his death in the room where now the bell was
ringing its summons.
I doubted if I could ever spend another night beneath that roof, for
here Dr. Damar Greefe, the arch-assassin, and one of his victims both
had met their ends. I heard the voice of Coates speaking in the
adjoining room, and presently, as Gatton went to the door:
"Miss Merlin wishes to speak to you, sir," said Coates.
I ran eagerly to the 'phone, and:
"Hello!" I cried. "Is that you, Isobel?"
"Yes!" came her reply, and I noted the agitation in her voice. "I am
more dreadfully frightened than I have ever been in my life. If only
you were here! Is it possible for you to come at once?"
"What has alarmed you?" I asked anxiously.
"I can't explain," she replied. "It is a dreadful sense of
foreboding--and all the dogs in the neighborhood seem to have gone
mad!"
"Dogs!" I cried, a numbing fear creeping over me. "You mean that they
are howling?"
"Howling!" she answered. "I have never heard such a pandemonium at any
time. In my present state of nerves, Jack, I did the wrong thing in
coming to this funny lonely little house. I feel deserted and hopeless
and, for some reason, in terrible danger."
"Are you _alone_, then?" I asked, in ever growing anxiety.
To my utter consternation:
"Yes!" she replied.


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