“One moment, Mr. Mercer.”
Don returned to the desk and looked questioningly at his superior. The major was apparently in deep thought and looked once at the letter. Then he sat down, and keeping the pages well screened behind a book, took the sheets and read them over. Picking up a pen, he wrote something at the end of the letter, refolded it and sealed the envelope.
“Do you know the country hereabouts very well, Mercer?” asked Tireson.
“I don’t think so, sir,” replied Don. “Only in a general way.”
“Do you know any of it across the lake?” the major pressed.
“I have been over there once or twice,” Don answered.
The major walked to a window and pointed across the lake. “Have you ever seen an old farmhouse off there in the woods?” he asked.
Don hesitated. He was not sure whether the major was pumping him or not. But feeling that the truth would be the best course he nodded.
“Yes, sir, I have seen the place. I think it is the only farm on that side of the lake.”
“That’s the place,” affirmed the major. “I wish you would do me a great favor, Mr. Mercer. I have had word that a friend of mine will be at that house today, and I want you to deliver a letter to him. I will excuse you from classes this morning and I would appreciate it if you would take this letter over there at once and wait for an answer.”