"Jason, I am down here at Marlianne's. Tell Benson to come
for the car, and--" He stopped abruptly. Jason was talking excitedly,
almost incoherently at the other end.
"Master Jim, sir! Is that you, sir, Master Jim! It--it came, sir, not
ten minutes after you left to-night, and--"
"Jason," said Jimmie Dale sharply, "what's the matter with you? What
are you talking about? What came?"
"Why--why, sir--I beg your pardon, sir, but I've been a bit uneasy ever
since, sir. It's--it's one of those letters, Master Jim, sir."
A sudden whiteness came into Jimmie Dale's face, as he stared
into the mouthpiece of the telephone. A "call to arms" from the
Tocsin--_now_--to-night! What was he to do! It was not a trivial thing
which that letter would contain--it never had been, and it never would
be, and no matter under what circumstances it found him, he--
Jason's voice faltered over the wire:
"Are you there, sir, Master Jim?"
"Yes," said Jimmie Dale quietly. "Bring the letter with you, Jason, and
come down with Benson. I will wait for you here--in the car outside
Marlianne's. And hurry, Jason--take a taxi down."
"Yes, sir," said Jason, his voice trembling a little.
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