"Oh, yes, thank you. Is there a telephone in the house?"
"Yes, and I can call up your father at his office. You can speak to him yourself, if you like. What time does he go home to dinner?"
"About half-past one o'clock."
Mr. Atkinson consulted his watch. "We shall catch him, I think." And in a few minutes Dimple, listening, heard her father's voice in reply to Mr. Atkinson's "Hallo! is that you, Dallas?"
"Don't you want to speak to him yourself?" asked Mr. Atkinson, when he had told Mr. Dallas that Dimple and her cousin were safely housed. He lifted the little girl up so she could call her father. "I'm safe here, papa, and so is Florence," she said; "please tell mamma."
The answer came, "I will, daughter; I'm glad you are in good hands. I'll tell mamma to send Bubbles for you when it has stopped raining."
"Let them stay till I take them home," spoke up Mr. Atkinson. "I can take care of them, and it will be a great pleasure to have them here."
"Very well, if you like. I shall be satisfied to have them in such safe hands. Good-bye," came Mr. Dallas's parting words.
"Good-bye," and Mr. Atkinson hung up the receiver, and turned to his guests. "Now, young ladies, I suspect you are hungry. I am, for one. Suppose we see what we can find to eat." He took out his keys and unlocked the pantry door. The girls looked at each other. There were delightful possibilities before them.
"I'll forage in here," continued Mr. Atkinson, "while you set the table. You'll find dishes in there." And he pointed to a china-closet.