By eleven that night Clark had heard nothing from his head office. The strain became too great, and he went into a little room off the library where an extension of the private wire had been carried up from the works. There was once a time when he could send and receive in the Morse code, so now he sat down and laid a somewhat uncertain finger on the tilting key.
"Phil — Phil — Phil."
Instantly and to his surprise, came the reply.
"Sma — Sma — Sma."
"Is — Wimp — there?" The thing began to come a little easier.
"Yes."
"Tell — Wimp — I — want — answer — funds — for — payroll."
Clark got this off laboriously, conscious that however clear might be the message, the wire was a poor transmitter as compared to eye and voice.
"Wimp — says — meeting — going — on — now — cannot — act — before — to-morrow — Get that."
"Yes," flashed the plunging reply.