Williams laughed. "Oh, no; it hasn't anything to do with his
having been over here. I'm sure they were very nice to him."
"Well, I'm glad of that."
"Yes, indeed--" Mrs. Williams began, when Fanny appeared,
summoning her to the telephone.
It is pathetically true that Mrs. Williams went to the telephone
humming a little song. She was detained at the instrument not
more than five minutes; then she made a plunging return into the
library, a blanched and stricken woman. She made strange,
sinister gestures at her husband.
He sprang up, miserably prophetic. "Mrs. Bassett?"
"Go to the telephone," Mrs. Williams said hoarsely "She wants to
talk to you, too. She CAN'T talk much--she's hysterical. She says
they lured Georgie into the cellar and had him beaten by negroes!
That's not all--"
Mr. Williams was already on his way.
"You find Sam!" he commanded, over his shoulder.
Mrs. Williams stepped into the front hall. "Sam!" she called,
addressing the upper reaches of the stairway. "Sam!"
Not even echo answered.
"SAM!"
A faint clearing of somebody's throat was heard behind her, a
sound so modest and unobtrusive it was no more than just audible,
and, turning, the mother beheld her son sitting upon the floor in
the shadow of the stairs and gazing meditatively at the hatrack.
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