"Can you see it,
Loder?" he cried. "I can't--the light's in my eyes. Can you
see it? Can you see the tube?" He lifted himself higher, an
agony of apprehension in his face.
Loder pushed him back upon the pillow. He was striving hard
to keep his own mind cool, to steer his own course straight
through the chaos that confronted him. "Chilcote," he began
once more, "you sent for me last night, and I came the first
thing this morning to tell you--" But there he stopped.
With an excitement that lent him strength, Chilcote pushed
aside his hands. "God!" he said, suddenly, "suppose 'twas
lost--suppose 'twas gone!" The imaginary possibility gripped
him. He sat up, his face livid, drops of perspiration showing
on his forehead, his whole shattered system trembling before
his thought.
At the sight, Loder set his lips. "The tube is on the
mantel-shelf," he said, in a cold, abrupt voice.
A groan of relief fell from Chilcote and the muscles of his
face relaxed. For a, moment he lay back with closed eyes;
then the desire that tortured him stirred afresh.
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