Spurred by the reference to Landon, Avice, said, clearly; “Yes, please come at once, Mr. Stone, if you possibly can.”
“Be there in half an hour,” was the quick reply, and a click ended the conversation.
“What kind of a boy are you?” said Avice, looking at Fibsy, half angry, half admiring.
“Now, Miss Avice, don’t you make no mistake. I ain’t buttin’ in here out o’ freshness or impidence. There’s the devil’s own doin’ goin’ on, an’ nobody knows it but me. It’s too big for me to handle, an’ it’s too big for that Duane donkey to tackle. An’ they ain’t no one as can ’tend to it but F. Stone. An’ gee! you come mighty near losin’ him! Why, Miss Avice, when you heard somebuddy wired him in your name not to come here, don’t that tell you nothin’?”
“Yes, Fibsy, it shows me some one is working against Mr. Landon’s interests. And that is what Judge Hoyt has been afraid of all along. I wish he were here.”
“Who? Judge Hoyt?”
“Yes, I promised to have him here when Mr. Stone came. There ought to be a legal mind present.”
“Mine’s here, Miss Avice; and right on the job. My legal mind is workin’ somepin fierce this mornin’ an’ I kin tell Mr. F. Stone a whole lot that Judge Hoyt couldn’t.”
“Fibsy, I don’t know whether to send you away, or bless you for being here.” Avice looked at the boy in an uncertainty of opinion.
“Now, Miss Avice, don’t you worry, don’t you fret about that. You’ll be glad an’ proud you know me, before this crool war is over! an’ that ain’t no idol thret! Bullieve me!”