"See if he'll stay where he is till I can get there."

The doctor turned to the telephone and asked the question. There was a
long pause. Gys wanted to know who it was that proposed to visit him.
John Merrick, the retired millionaire? All right; Gys would wait in
Collins' office for twenty minutes.

Uncle John lost no time in rushing to his motor car, where he ordered
the driver to hasten to the address Dr. Barlow had given him.

The offices of Dr. Collins were impressive. Mr. Merrick entered a
luxurious reception room and gave his name to a businesslike young woman
who advanced to meet him. He had called to see Dr. Gys.

The young woman smothered a smile that crept to her lips, and led Uncle
John through an examination room and an operating room--both vacant
just now--and so into a laboratory that was calculated to give a well
person the shivers. Here was but one individual, a man in his
shirt-sleeves who was smoking a corncob pipe and bending over a test
tube.

Uncle John coughed to announce his presence, for the woman had slipped
away as she closed the door. The man's back was turned partially toward
his visitor. He did not alter his position as he said:

"Sit down. There's a chair in the southwest corner."

Uncle John found the chair. He waited patiently a few moments and then
his choler began to rise.