“I don’t know,” said Miss Wilkinson at last.
Fibsy gave a quick whistle. “She does know,” he declared; “she takes all the telephone calls, and she knows the G’uvnor went out ’cause somebody telephoned for him.”
“Is this true?” asked Berg of the girl.
“How can I tell?” she retorted, pertly. “Mr. Trowbridge had a lot of telephone calls yesterday, and I don’t know whether he went out because of one of them or not. I don’t listen to a telephone conversation after Mr. Trowbridge takes the wire.”
“You do so!” said Fibsy, in a conversational tone. “Mr. Berg, Yellowtop told me just after the Guv’nor went out, that he’d gone ’cause somebody asked him over the wire to go to Van Cortlandt Park.”
“Tell the truth,” said Berg to the girl, curtly.
“Well, I just as lief,” she returned; “but it ain’t my way to tell of private office matters in public.”
“Make it your way, now, then. It’s time you understand the seriousness of this occasion!”
“All right. Somebody, then,—some man,—did call Mr. Trowbridge about two o’clock, and asked him to go to Van Cortlandt Park.”
“What for? Did he say?”