“Probably,” Ken agreed. “Anyway we’re sorry to have bothered you.”
“No bother at all,” Barrack assured him. “I was kind of puzzled. Thought I’d stop in and find out what it was all about.”
Their good-nights were brief but polite. But the door had scarcely closed behind Barrack when Sandy grabbed Ken’s arm.
“We could ask him the name of his customer,” he said, “and call the man up.” He reached for the doorknob. “Why didn’t we think of that while—?”
Ken’s hand found the doorknob first and held it. “Don’t bother,” he said. “There’s no use trying to get any honest information out of that gentleman.”
“Huh?”
Ken locked the door and slipped the safety chain into place. “I didn’t think of this myself until he was giving his little spiel about his passenger, but this phone here is unlisted. Dad’s name isn’t in the phone book.”
Sandy stared at him. “What’s your father’s phone got to do with Mr. Barrack—or anything else?”
“But the phone number is all I left with Barrack’s landlady. I didn’t give her this address.”
“Oh,” Sandy said. “I see. And he couldn’t have got the address by asking the phone company for it, because they don’t give out that information.”