Mr. Adam Read Online Free PDF Page A

the extension. “It’s Maria Ostenheimer,” she said, puzzled, “for you.”
    I took the telephone, and said, “Hello, Maria, what are you doing for a living nowadays?”
    â€œThat’s not very funny,” the lady obstetrician said. “I’ve got a good mind not to tell you what I called about.”
    There was excitement in her voice. I said: “Go ahead, Maria, talk.”
    â€œStephen,” she said, “listen carefully. A baby is going to be born—may have been born already—in Tarrytown.”
    â€œNow Maria,” I said, “just last week I flew down to a place called Big Stone Gap, Virginia, on one of those tips, and we landed in a cornfield and ground-looped, and it turned out to be a baby, all right, but a baby born to a circus elephant named Priscilla.”
    â€œStephen,” said Maria, enunciating her words slowly and carefully, “this is the real thing. You will remember I mentioned Dr. Blandy, who practises in Westchester. He was called on this case four months ago, back in May.”
    â€œWhy didn’t he mention it before?” I demanded.
    â€œYou dunce!” Maria said. “At first he thought it was going to be an abnormally small baby, and after the end of June he thought it might be an unusually long pregnancy. He didn’t want to say a word about it until he was absolutely sure.”
    â€œAnd is he sure now?”
    â€œThere can be no doubt of it. The baby was conceived exactly nine months ago—three months after those damn uranium rays sterilized all the men. Blandy brought all the records of the case to my office this morning.”
    â€œWhy did he bring them to you?” I asked, looking for a loophole I was sure existed.
    â€œI am,” said Maria, “on the executive board of the New York City investigating committee for the N.R.P. Besides, he knew there would be a great deal of publicity after the baby was born, and he wanted my advice. I said,” she continued sarcastically, “that I might persuade you to handle the press, since you had some experience along those lines, and were sometimes considered reliable.”
    â€œBless you! Maria. Bless you!” I exclaimed.
    â€œWhat’s going on here?” Marge interrupted.
    â€œQuiet!” I shouted.
    â€œYou’re not going to leave me out of this,” Marge said. She went to the closet and took out a blue dress. Then she began to pull underthings out of a drawer.
    â€œMaria,” I said into the phone, “where is this child being born?”
    There was a pause, and I knew she was searching for a memorandum. I considered all the things that J.C. would want me to do. “The address,” Maria said, “is The Gatehouse, Rosemere, Tarrytown.”
    â€œThat sounds like an estate,” I said.
    â€œIt sounds like the gatehouse on an estate,” Maria amended. “You’d better get going, Stephen, because it may happen any time this afternoon, according to Blandy. And remember, I’m depending on you to help him out.”
    My pajamas were off before I was out of bed. “I never,” said Marge, startled, “saw you move so fast in all my life before.”
    â€œThrow some shirts and socks and shorts and my shaving kit and handkerchiefs into a bag,” I yelled. “A baby is being born!”
    â€œWhere are we going?” she asked.
    â€œTarrytown.”
    â€œBut that’s only—”
    â€œIf this thing is true, I’m going to stay.”
    â€œYou mean we are going to stay. This is just as important for me as it is for you. More!” I could see that Marge was already dressed, and was packing two bags, swiftly and efficiently, as if we were off for the weekend, and the train was going to leave in twenty minutes.
    We caught a cab on Fifth Avenue, and the lights were with us all the way to Grand Central. The next train for Tarrytown was the Croton local. I bought a