CHAPTER VIIENTER CHARLIE CHAN
Miss Minerva leaned far over, her keen eyes seeking Dan’s face. It was turned toward the wall, half buried in the pillow. “Dan,” she said brokenly. She put her hand on his cheek. The night air was warm and muggy, but she shivered a little as she drew the hand quickly away. Steady! She must be steady now.
She hurried through the living-room to the hall; the telephone was in a closet under the front stairs. Her fingers were trembling again as she fumbled with the numerals on the dial. She got her number, heard finally an answering voice.
“Amos? Is that you, Amos? This is Minerva. Come over here to Dan’s as quickly as you can.”
The voice muttered in protest. Miss Minerva cut in on it sharply.
“For God’s sake, Amos, forget your silly feud. Your brother is dea
