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I want you, at once, to look up the earliest connecting train with Finlake, Pennsylvania, any road." "Yes, sir," began Pietro. "What " but the receiver had clicked into place. Kenny stared with a shudder at the withered fern, his face as white as chalk. A tearing hand seemed clinging to his brain.
He's at Finlake, Pennsylvania, barely conscious in the hands of a country doctor." The brilliant industrious young surgeon on the other end gasped and whistled. He worked and played at heavy pressure. "Kenny, old man," he said, "nothing is impossible. Almost this is. But it's you and Brian and that's enough, I'll meet you at quarter of eleven. I'll go thoroughly prepared.
At times he turned the swiveled searchlight upon a road-sign and evoked a glistening play of silver on the trees. Once, cursing, he changed a tire; once the car skidded dangerously in a circle but to Frank his air of confidence was hypnotically convincing. The final stretch of the journey became a dim and frosty blur of sleety trees. At Finlake they began to climb.
Kenny drove him to the Finlake station. "This car has been a godsend," he said. "And Garry's wired me to keep it. He's going to the coast." "When?" "Thursday." Kenny's eyes were moist and grateful. "Ah, Frank, darlin', you're a jewel!" "Piffle!" countered Frank. "Kenny, old dear, I think you hit a chicken. If at any time," he added at the station, "you feel the need of me, I want you to wire.
"Morning eight-ten. Noon, one-twenty-nine and night, seven-fifteen. But don't get off at Briston, Mr. O'Neill. Finlake, fifteen miles on, is nearer " "I can not possibly make the morning train. The changes make the trip long. Twelve hours. . . . God!" "I myself will meet you at Finlake. It's three miles farther to the quarry. If you are not on the noon train I will meet the night "
"Frank," he telephoned after an unavailing interval of search for Garry, "if you're willing we'll motor to Finlake in Garry's car. He'll not be mindin'. I borrow it often. It's a bad night of course but we could start now. And we can make time on the road. It's barely two hundred and fifty miles but the branch roads and changes make unendurable delay. Shall I come for you in half an hour?"
There is a possibility " But there were some things that even the little doctor could not say. "Still there, Mr. O'Neill?" he asked a little later. "Yes. Where is Brian now?" "In a quarry shack on what we call up here the Finlake mountain." "Finlake mountain!" "Yes, barely eighteen miles across the valley from the farm. They couldn't find a doctor. Carson is nearer but he was out.
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