“Now we’ll have dinner right away,” she declared. “You people must be starved.”
Aunt Abbie’s idea of a panacea for all the human ills of the body was a “good meal.”
“Where are Dick and Phil?” asked Garry.
“Oh, they went traipsing off to the postoffice a few minutes ago,” said Aunt Abbie. “If you just ring up there on the ’phone you may find them there. They flustered all around the house this morning worrying about you, and then went out.”
Garry manipulated the telephone, for as in most small villages, the telephones are old style and one has to turn a crank or generator to call central.
Denton himself answered the ’phone. He was mighty pleased to hear Garry’s voice and expressed himself as “being plumb tickled to death to talk with him.”
“Yes, your friends are here, and some time they’ve been having while you were gone. Want to talk to one of them, or shall I tell ’em to hike over to Aunt Abbie’s right away?”
Garry told the postmaster to do the latter thing, and then went back to where the others were assembled.
“Now let’s hear all that’s happened,” he said to Mr. Everett.
“I guess perhaps we’d better wait till the boys get back, and let them have the fun of telling you themselves. It’s been pretty exciting, though, what with bank burglars and masqueraders of the law.”