"As soon as young Sam Kee told us
about his father's separating the clapper and the bell, I remembered
the central crystal pendant on my necklace. It _is_ shaped like a bell
clapper--we mentioned it once. "I guessed right away we had the missing clapper. But I didn't say so. I wanted to score on you, Mark--" she smiled affectionately at
him--"and because, you know, I had a queer feeling Sam Kee, junior,
wouldn't let us have the bell if he guessed we had the clapper." "I don't think he would." Mark Williams picked up his pipe and rubbed
the bowl with his thumb. "Yet he didn't really believe that story he
told us any more than we do." "No, but his father did. And if old Sam Kee had told it to
us--remember how wrinkled and wise he seemed?--I do believe we'd have
believed the story." "You're probably right." Dr. Williams rang the bell and waited. The
thin, sweet sound seemed to hang in the air a long moment, then was
gone. "Nope," he said. "Nothing happened. Although, of course, that may be
because there was no deceased around to respond." "I'm not sure I feel like joking about the story." A small frown
gathered on Edith's forehead. "I had planned to use the bell as a
dinner bell and to tell the story to our guests. But now--I'm not
sure." Frowning, she stared at the bell until the ringing of the telephone in
the hall brought her out of her abstraction. "Sit still, I'll answer." She hurried out. Dr. Williams, turning the
rose crystal bell over in his hand, could hear the sudden tension in
her voice as she answered. He was on his feet when she reentered. "An emergency operation at the hospital," she sighed. "Nice young
man--automobile accident. Fracture of the skull, Dr. Amos says. He
wouldn't have disturbed you but you're the only brain man in town,
with Dr. Hendryx away on vacation." "I know." He was already in the hall, reaching for his hat. "Man's
work is from sun to sun, but a doctor's work is never done," he
misquoted. "I'll drive you." Edith followed him out. "You sit back and relax for
another ten minutes...."

       *       *       *       *       *

Two hours later, as they drove homeward, the traffic was light, which
was fortunate. More than once Mark, in a frowning abstraction, found
himself on the left of the center line and had to pull back into his
own lane. He had lost patients before, but never without a feeling of personal
defeat. Edith said he put too much of himself into every operation. Perhaps he did. And yet--No, there was every reason why the young man
should have lived. Yet, just as Mark Williams had felt that he had
been successful, the patient had died. In twenty years of marriage, Edith Williams had learned to read his
thoughts at times. Now she put a hand comfortingly on his arm. "These things happen, darling," she said. "You know that. A doctor can
only do so much. Some of the job always remains in the hands of
Nature. And she does play tricks at times." "Yes, confound it, I know it," her husband growled. "But I resent
losing that lad. There was no valid reason for it--unless there was
some complication I overlooked." He shook his head, scowling. "I
ordered an autopsy but--Yes, I'm going to do that autopsy myself. I'm
going to turn back and do it now. I have to know!" He pulled abruptly to the left to swing into a side road and turn. Edith Williams never saw the car that hit them. She heard the frantic
blare of a horn and a scream of brakes, and in a frozen instant
realized that there had been someone behind them, about to pass. Then
the impact came, throwing her forward into the windshield and
unconsciousness. *       *       *       *       *

Edith Williams opened her eyes. Even before she realized that she was
lying on the ground and that the figure bending over her was a State
Trooper, she remembered the crash. Her head hurt but there was no
confusion in her mind. Automatically, even as she tried to sit up, she
accepted the fact that there had been a crash, help had come, and she
must have been unconscious for several minutes at least. "Hey, lady, take it easy!" the Trooper protested. "You had a bad bump. You got to lie still until the ambulance gets here. It'll be along in
five minutes." "Mark," Edith said, paying no attention. "My husband! Is he all
right?" "Now lady, please. He's being taken care of. You--"

But she was not listening. Holding to his arm she pulled herself to a
sitting position. She saw their car on its side some yards away, other
cars pulled up around them, a little knot of staring people. Saw them
and dismissed them. Her gaze found her husband, lying on the ground a
few feet away, a coat folded beneath his head. Mark was dead. She had been a doctor's wife for twenty years, and
before that a nurse. She knew death when she saw it. "Mark." The word was spoken to herself, but the Trooper took it for a
question. "Yes, lady," he said. "He's dead. He was still breathing when I got
here, but he died two, three minutes ago." She got to her knees. Her only thought was to reach his side. She
scrambled across the few feet of ground to him still on her knees and
crouched beside him, fumbling for his pulse. There was none. There was
nothing. Just a man who had been alive and now was dead. Behind her she heard a voice raised. She turned. A large, disheveled
man was standing beside the Trooper, talking loudly. "Now listen, officer," he was saying, "I'm telling you again, it
wasn't my fault. The guy pulled sharp left right in front of me. Not a
thing I could do. It's a wonder we weren't all three of us killed. You
can see by the marks on their car it wasn't my fault--"

Edith Williams closed her mind to the voice. She let Mark's hand lie
in her lap as she fumbled in her bag, which was somehow still clutched
in her fingers. She groped for a handkerchief to stem the tears which
would not be held back. Something was in the way--something smooth and
hard and cold. She drew it out and heard the thin, sweet tinkle of the
crystal bell. She must have dropped it automatically into her bag as
they were preparing to leave the house. The hand in her lap moved. She gasped and bent forward as her
husband's eyes opened. "Mark!" she whispered. "Mark, darling!" "Edith," Mark Williams said with an effort. "Sorry--damned careless of
me. Thinking of the hospital...."

"You're alive!" she said. "You're _alive_! Oh, darling, darling, lie
still, the ambulance will be here any second." "Ambulance?" he protested. "I'm all right now. Help me--sit up." "But Mark----"

"Just a bump on the head." He struggled to sit up. The State Trooper
came over. "Easy, buddy, easy," he said, his voice awed. "We thought you were
gone. Now let's not lose you a second time." His mouth was tight. "Hey, I'm sure glad you're all right!" the red-faced man said in a
rush of words. "Whew, fellow, you had me all upset, even though it
wasn't my fault. I mean, how's a guy gonna keep from hitting you
when--when----"

"Catch him!" Mark Williams cried, but the Trooper was too late.