Craig stopped the machine, ran it back again and repeated the record. "So," he commented at the conclusion of the repetition, "the 'plant' has taken root. Annie Grayson has bitten at the bait."
A few other local calls and a long-distance call from Mr. Willoughby cut short by his not finding his wife at home followed. Then there seemed to have been nothing more until after dinner. It was a call by Mr. Willoughby himself that now interested us.
"Hello! hello! Is that you, Dr. Guthrie? Well, Doctor, this is Mr. Willoughby talking. I'd like to make an appointment for my wife to-morrow."
"Why, what's the trouble, Mr. Willoughby? Nothing serious, I hope."
"Oh, no, I guess not. But then I want to be sure, and I guess you can fix her up all right. She complains of not being able to sleep and has been having pretty bad headaches now and then."
"Is that so? Well, that's too bad. These women and their headaches—even as a doctor they puzzle me. They often go away as suddenly as they come. However, it will do no harm to see me."
"And then she complains of noises in her ears, seems to hear things, though as far as I can make out, there is nothing—at least nothing that I hear."
"Um-m, hallucinations in hearing, I suppose. Any dizziness?"
"Why, yes, a little once in a while."
"How is she now?"
"Well, she's been into town this afternoon and is pretty tired, but she says she feels a little better for the excitement of the trip."
