“Go ahead, here's Captain Cronin!”
A pleasant voice came over the wire. It was musical and sincere.
“Hello, Captain Cronin, is that you?”
“Yes! What do you want?”
The voice continued, with a jolly laugh, ringing and infectious in its merriment.
“Well, Captain, the joke's on you. Ha, ha, ha! It's a bully one! Ho, ho! Ha, ha!”
“What joke?”
“You're working on the Van Cleft case. Oh, sure, you are, don't kid me back. Well, Captain, you've missed two other perfectly good grafts. This is the third one!”
There was a click and the speaker, with another merry gurgle, rang off.
“Quick, manager's desk,” cried Shirley, jiggling the metal key. “What call was that? Where did it come from?”