“I don’t know. These Germans certainly keep us busy. Some of our optimists are turning pessimists, now that Austria is declaring war against Servia. They are beginning to think that perhaps there is something in this war-talk. I have to go to them and tell them just how much there really is in it. I had much rather stay—wish I could.”
“I know that, Bronson, and there is no one I would rather have. But perhaps you will be of better service there. I shall code Wright the information we get tonight, if we get it. They will have it at the New York office.”
Strong and Walker returned to the Adams street office; Ted went home. He was glad of the chance to see more of his mother; Helen, he knew, would not be home. Ted was very fond of his pretty, efficient sister, and proud of her rapid rise at the store.
He found his mother there when he reached home. He explained the reason for his wearing the newsboy’s clothes.
Ted spent a quiet, comfortable afternoon with her. Many things they still had to talk about and the mother realized how much it was the desire of Ted to have her and Helen come out to that great West, a land where contentment and opportunity, at least, were more likely to be found than in this place, in which she had lived so many years.
About three o’clock, only a half hour after he had been at Adams street, Strong was called to the telephone. He had been busy at a report, the call was unexpected and could only come from his secretary or from Ted, the only two besides Walker who knew of this new location.
It proved to be his secretary.
“A messenger boy came here a little while ago with a message for you,” she said.
“Read it.”