"I am in the room at the end of the corridor. I can observe the door of your room from where I stand, and I have a loaded revolver in my hand." "What are you going to do?" "That depends upon you. I can either send for the police, and give you in charge, or I can take scientific observations with your assistance--whichever you prefer." "What do you mean by scientific observations?" "You are locked up in a room twelve feet square with an ounce of radium." "Well?" "You are the first man in the world who has been locked up with an ounce of radium in a room twelve feet square, and your sensations would be of scientific value. If you care to describe them to me by telephone so long as you are conscious, I will not prosecute; otherwise I will place the matter in the hands of the police. Which do you prefer to do?" "You are remarkably kind to offer me the alternative. I think I prefer to describe my sensations." "Thank you. I am really very much obliged to you, John Smithers; but I ought to warn you beforehand that you will be put to great personal inconvenience. If you decide to try the experiment I shall not release you for some hours. I shall certainly not break off in the middle, however ill you feel." "I have told you my choice," said Anstruther curtly. "Right. Stop, though. What sort of a heart have you?" "Strong." "Good. You'll need it. Got a watch?" "Yes." "Can you take your pulse?" "Yes." "You are a real treasure, John Smithers. I'm glad you called. You've been fifteen minutes in the room. What is your pulse?" "Seventy-three." "Thank you. Can you read a clinical thermometer?" "Yes." "On the ledge of the telephone, where the paper is, you will find a tube. Got it? There's a thermometer inside. Please take it out, and read it carefully." "Ninety-seven," said the Major. "Thank you. I had no idea the army was so intelligent. How the papers do deceive us! Now put the thermometer under your tongue for two minutes, and then let me know what it registers." "Ninety-nine," came the eventual response. "Thank you. Horse or foot soldier, Smithers?" "Horse." "Horse. Thank you. Married?" "No." "Good again, Smithers. No one dependent upon you, I hope? Have you a headache?" "It's enough to give me one, answering all your questions." "Please describe symptoms, and not attempt to diagnose them. Have you a headache?" "Yes." "How's your heart?" "Beats irregularly." "Probably it will. Respiration?" "It's rather choky here. Can't you let me have a breath of fresh air?" "On no account, Smithers--on no account. I'm surprised at your suggesting such a thing. That will do for the present. I'll ring up again shortly, and I'm always here if you want me. You might take a little gentle exercise now."