Careless of these comments and of the mild sensation his appearance always created, Follansbee soon reached the hospital, passed through the imposing entrance, and went on down the broad corridor to his private room. As soon as he had seated himself at his desk and glanced hastily through the few reports and other documents which lay there, he pressed one of several buzzer buttons on a small switchboard attached to his desk. In response to the summons, the resident physician in charge quickly entered. Follansbee spent half an hour listening to the reports of the various cases and to matters of hospital routine. That done, he issued a few instructions in his sharp voice, and the physician left the room. Other heads of departments followed, and for two hours Follansbee was constantly engaged. At the end of that time, though, he rose to his feet and passed through into an adjoining room which was fitted up as a private laboratory and workshop. Crossing to one side of the room along which rows of shelves had been placed, he opened a small, glass-doored cupboard, and, leaning forward, took a small case of test tubes from one of the shelves, which contained serum of various types. Going back to his desk, the doctor seated himself and began to work. Evidently he was thinking something out with the aid of pencil and paper. He had a pad in front of him, and on it he scrawled a few lines of straggling writing. Then, after a prolonged pause, he jotted down a few more words. “Yes,” he said to himself presently, “I think that will be the best way. There’s no reason why Crawford could not have been exposed to disease before his arrival. He has just landed in New York, and if I succeed in getting at him within the next day or so, there will be no reason for any one to suspect.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m sorry, though, that that mad fool attacked him,” he went on musingly, “for, despite what Stone says, I feel sure that Crawford must be on his guard now.” That was the point in the case which baffled Follansbee for the moment. He could not understand why Crawford, after no less than three attempts had been made on his life, should still be willing to occupy a room which connected directly with that of his would-be murderer. At last, with a shrug of his shoulders, he dismissed the subject.