Tolly was the operator at the station.
"Where is he?" asked Owen, and looked meaningly at Dale.
"Here he comes now."
In a moment more the operator appeared. He carried in his hand a sealed telegram envelope.
"Here is Owen Webb now!" called out the station master.
"Are you Owen Webb?" asked the operator curiously, and he looked the young lumberman over from head to foot.
"That's my handle," replied Owen, using an expression he had picked up since coming West.
"Then this is for you." The operator handed over the message. "I wish you luck," he added. "I was counting on something happening before long," and he walked away.
Trying to keep down his feelings, Owen tore open the envelope and took out the telegram. For such a communication it was quite long, and ran as follows:
"Owen Webb, Tunley, Ore.