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She searched her mind for clues. Where had she been? The scene came
slowly back to her. She was standing in the doorway. She and Douglas
were arguing. ..... if it wasn't for that kid ... he's not much of a
bargain now ... he'll hate you when he finds out ... "

"Oh, my God," Sheila gasped. "The poor child." She Hew to the
telephone and began dialing rapidly. "Mrs. Green? ... Oh, I'm fine
... Yes, yes, it has been nice weather. Look, Mrs. Green. I'm rather
in a hurry. Could you tell me if Dougie is there playing with Ronnie?
... You'll look? Thank you." Sheila twisted the telephone cord ner-
vously. Her foot tapped staccato beats on the polished floor, Would
the woman never come back? "Yes, Yes, I'm here, Mrs. Green ...
Dougie's not there? You're sure? ... No, Mrs. Green, there's nothing
wrong .... Really, I'm in a hurry. I'll ring you later. 'Bye." She hung
up the receiver with a sinking heart. Ronnie was Dougie's best friend.
He'd be there if anywhere.

She smoothed her hair. She couldn't panic. He might be at any
of several places, she reasoned with herself; the Smiths, the Wagners,
the Allisons, the Carters-she'd call them all.

"Thank you, Mrs. Johnson." For the tenth time, Sheila replaced
the receiver wearily. There was no one left to call. Dougie wasn't
home and he wasn't at any of his friends. She slumped on the tele-
phone bench, worried. The long, mournful wail of an ambulance
or fire engine cut into her consciousness. Shelia grabbed the phone
and dialed "0". "Operator," she said breathlessly, "give me Spring-
field General Hospital." It was an interminable time before she was
connected. "Hello, this is Mrs. Douglas Warren of 114 Singapore
Drive. I wish to know if a ten-year old boy about five feet with blonde
hair has been admitted with the last hour and a half. What's that?
You'll have to check. Well, hurry, please."

An eternity passed, and then the nurse's crisp voice on the other
end of the line stated professionally. "We have no admissions fitting
that description, Madam."

Sheila breathed a sigh of relief. Surely the ambulance-if it was
that-would have had time to get to the hospital. Still, she had better
be sure. "Please call me if there should be an admission like I de-
scribed," she asked. "My number is PLaza 2-7869. Thank you."

She replaced the receiver, limp with relief. He wasn't in the hos-
pital. Now there was nothing to do but wait. She stared at the phone,
willing it not to ring. The clock on the hall table caught her eye. The
hands were fixed at one o'clock. It was a ridiculous wedding present
from Douglas's maiden aunt and had never run properly.

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