The wife of the junior partner suddenly looked alarmed.
"That telegram!" she gasped, noticing the senior partner's furtive manner of slipping the despatch into his pocket—"is anything wrong with Jack? Has the train been wrecked? Has the"——
And she started to her feet in great agitation.
"Calm yourself, calm yourself," said the senior partner, also rising and smiling reassuringly. "There's nothing the matter. Train wrecked? Why, the idea! How did you ever get such a notion"——
"But that telegram that you handle so mysteriously," said the junior partner's wife, not yet over her alarm.
"What telegram—this?" said the senior partner, taking the night message from St. Louis from his pocket. "Why, this is an ordinary—er—business telegram addressed to Jack from St. Louis, and it's"——
"Let me see it, please, if it's for Jack," said the junior partner's wife, holding out her neatly gloved hand, and the senior partner could do nothing else but pass it over.
"'Hammer—Jim—Conway. Punch—him—your—limit. Don't—let—anything—scare—you—out. He's easy. Bub.'" the junior partner's wife read, slowly and distinctly, her eyes widening at each sentence. "This, then, is the Mr. Conway that you spoke of. Mr. Topknot, what is the meaning of this? What in the world is the"——
"You can search me," said the senior partner desperately. "Er—that is, it's all as mysterious to me as it apparently is to you. I've been bothering my head about it all the morning. I wouldn't have worried you by showing it to you, but as long as you asked to see it, why, of course"——
And the senior partner coughed behind his hand and looked dismal.