Could he tell Carly first? He glanced at a telephone book at his elbow.
No, that would never do. To hear his voice on the telephone would throw her into a convulsion. He didn't believe she stood for that spirit foolishness, but if, by any chance, she had been won over, his voice would surely give her some sort of a shock.
The boys, then. Yes, that was the only thing. He must see them, but he must telephone first and learn their whereabouts.
He could, he concluded, call in a disguised voice, and get a line on things anyhow.
So, still in a haze of doubt and uncertainty, he looked up the number and called Shelby.
As he rather expected, Shelby was not at his home, but the person who answered could give no directions save to say that Mr. Shelby would probably be home by six o'clock, and would he leave a message?
"No," returned Peter shortly, and hung up.
Getting next the number of the Leonardo Studios, he asked for Gilbert Blair.
"W-what—who?" came a stammering response.
"Mr. Blair—Mr. Gilbert Blair," repeated Peter.