XXV. — AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR
I dropped the paper in dismay. Charlotte looked up, startled, gave me a single look, and turned pale,
“What—what's the matter?” she stammered fearfully.
I showed her. Then I ran to the phone. In a few seconds I was talking to the very man who had taken the note from the messenger the day before.
“Yes, I handed it in along with the rest,” he replied to my excited query. Then—“Wait a minute,” said he; and a moment later added: “Say, Mr. Fenton, I've made a mistake! Here's the darned ad on the counter; it must have slipped under the blotter.”
I went back and told Charlotte. We stared at one another blankly. Why in the name of all that was baffling had our ad “slipped” under that blotter? And what were we to do?
This was the second day!
Well, we did what we could. We arranged for the insertion of the same notice in each of the three afternoon papers. There would still be time for the Rhamda to act, if he saw it.