The Fayette falcon. (Somerville, Tenn.) 190?-current, 1915-06-18
Mistake. 'Cuse il, please"

She thought Of 1t bowling through
those deserted canyoniike streets
around Warren's office.
Impulsively she turned back to the
phone-she would call him
Cortland 1881" Then she waited
eagerly. II had been so long since she
had heard Warren's voice on the wire.
There had been no occasion to phone
him in London.
She could hear the buzzing at the
other end, but the expected click of his
taking down the receiver did not come.
Then at last, Cortland 1923 don't an.
swer!"
"Oh, ring them again, central. I'm
sure someone's there"
Another long wait, then centrals
voice with a note of finality, They
don't answer. Ill ring you If l get
them"
Baffied, Helen hung up the receiver.
He must be there! 1t was only thirty
minutes to his office, and 1t had been
an hour since he left.
Vaguely anxious, she went back to
her work. Taking of the dusty sheet
that had protected the bed, she turned
down the covers and laid out her night.
dress and Warren's pajamas. Some.
how the bed, now ready for the night,
gave the first touch of home to the
place.
Three times within the next half
hour she called Warren's Office, but
still that battling, Cortland 1923 don't
answer"
Even If he had started home before
her first call, he would be here by
now. What could 1t mean? Every
gruesome possibility now obsessed her
An accident In the subway, in cross.
ing dark street, or in the elevator,
run by the sleepy Waterman.
Was this swift punishment for her
rebellious thoughts at the monotonous
routine of their home? Was this rou-
tine to be broken by some tragedy?
Affect in her .remorse, with a tempes'
tuous change Of feeling, her home life
now seemed ideal. II only nothing had
happened to Warren!
BY eleven o'clock Helen had worked
herself into state Of feverish anxiety.
Unheeding the singing cold, she had
thrown up the library window and was
leaning far out, hoping to recognize
Warren in every muffied figure that
came up the street. Once more she
turned to the telephone.
Central" pleadingly, see II you
can't get that number now!"
Again the empty buzzing and again
central's Indifferent, They don't an.
swer."
Then, with a desperate determine
ton, Helen found the number of
well-known cab company and called
for taxi.
In blind, trembling haste she got
back into her travelling suit. This sus.
pense she could not bear moment
longer. She was going down to his
Office. II he was not there or had not
been there-then she would have to
call up some of his family.
She was slipping on her long steam
er coat when the front door banged.
A breathless second was followed by
the sound of Warren's heavy step.
He was struggling out of his over
coat, as with an inarticulate cry Helen
rushed into the hall.
"Oh, II"
But just then the telephone rang
out DANGEROUSLY.
who in thunder knows we're
homer" Shaking of Helen's clinging
arms, he strobe into the front room
to answer it.
Hello, what's that? A taxi? You've
got the wrong number" Grossly. we
didn't order any taxi here"
"Oh, yes-yes, we did," excitedly
Helen caught his arm. you'll have to
go down and give the man something
and send him away"
Warren stared at her.
"0h, couldn't get you on the phone
and was terrified! thought some
thing had happened. IL was going
down to the oflce!"
"Going down to the ONCE? OF all
blithering-"
Don't, dear, don't scold me now.
II you won't send that cab away-In
have to-"
you stay where you are!" Warren
caught her by the shoulders and al.
most flung her back In the room. Then
the hall door slammed after him.
When he came back, Helen was
curled up On the couch, her face in
the dusty sofa pillows, sobbing nerv.
ously.
Now what I'd like to know is,
Warren stood over her, his hands in
his pockets, IF it's softening of the
brain-or IL you're just plain dippy?"
He listened grimly, with an oeca-
sional snort, while Helen sobbed out |
an account OF telephoning and her
frantic anxiety.
What number did you call?'
''why, Cortland, 1928.
sGot the new book, haven't youf-
right there by the phone Why III
blazes didn't you look in It? My mum
49, .Ln-~.a a. n-raa CI00 NruF a. Il