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FLAMING YOUTH

being loved?

At least he had not been a plaything; her

regard for and trust in him were true and sincere. Better these, perhaps, than the turmoil and uncertainty of Yet, that temptation that she had held out to him; was it just an instance of her wickeder bent of coquetry?... Or could he have made her care? . . . Damn that telephone! He roused himself with a wrench and went into the next room where the intrusive mechanism was thrilling. Long-distance had been trying to get him... Wait a moment. . . A man’s voice, low, cager and strained came to his ear over the wire. “Dr. Osterhout ?” “Ves,”

“Can you come to Trenton immediately? By the next train?” ‘Who is speaking?” “It’s very important,” went on the nervous and insistent voice. “It’s a—a very important case. Critical.” ‘Who are your” “Ts that necessary?” queried the voice, after a pause, “Certainly. Do you suppose that I am going out on any wild-goose, anonymous call?” “Then I was to say,” said the voice, “that Mona needs you.” “Mona! Is she ill?” SSViesic>
 * “Where?”

“Here, in Trenton.” ‘Where in Trenton?”

“At the Marcus Groot Hotel. You’ll be met at the train. For God’s sake say you'll come.”

“T can get the one o’clock,” said Osterhout. bye.”

“Good-