He could see
Tom's lamp burning in the telephone compartment,
"Tom! Tom!" called the young banker.
Still there was no answer, and Ned, springing forward, threw open
the double, sound-proof door of the booth. Then he saw Tom lying
unconscious, with his head and arms on the table in front of him,
while the low buzzing of the electrical apparatus in the
transmitting box told that the current had not been shut off.
"Tom! Tom!" cried Ned in his chum's ear He shook him by the
shoulder,
"Are you hurt? What is the matter?"
The young inventor seemed unconscious, and for a moment Ned had a
wild idea that Tom had been shocked to death, possibly by some
crossed live wire coming in contact with the telephone circuit.
"But that couldn't have happened, or I'd have been shocked
myself," mused Ned.
Then he became aware of a curious, sweet, sickish odor in the
booth. It was overpowering. Ned felt himself growing dizzy.
"I have it--chloroform!" he gasped. "In some way Tom has been
overcome by chloroform. I've got to get him to the fresh air."
Once he had solved the puzzle of Tom's unconsciousness, Ned was
quick to act. He caught Tom under the arms, and dragged him out of
the booth, and to the outer door of the shop. Almost before Ned
had reached there with his limp burden, Tom began to revive, and
soon the fresh, cool night air completed the work.
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