“Was it an important message?”
“Yes—and no.”
“Probably the sender confirmed the cable wording in the letter you received this morning.”
Carl turned without an answer, as though he had not heard this final remark and stepped into his own office.
Her heart beat high, and fearfully she racked her mind for some way out of the difficulty in which she now perceived she had gotten herself. It would never do to let Carl make any personal inquiries at the cable office since then most assuredly she would be detected in the game she had tried to play. Many plans and schemes came to her mind but upon consideration none appeared to answer her purpose. As she murmured to herself, “I may as well take the chance and pretend to have stopped there. He would never know the difference and I can easily report that no such cablegram had been received.”
Her lunch hour having arrived she prepared to go out, and as she was putting on her hat, Carl happened to pass and gave a parting caution, “Now don’t forget about that cable.”
Her reply, “No I won’t,” was given in a rather strange tone and she was thankful that Carl did not appear to notice it. Hurriedly she left the office, her entire body atremble. She did not go near the cable office nor did she partake of her customary ice-cream soda lunch. The fear that rose up within her had robbed her of all desire to eat. Instead she walked the streets, thinking, thinking.
Returning to the office a little later than usual she summoned her courage and at once went to Carl’s private office.
In response to his eager and questioning look she said, “There has been no such message received for the past three months.”
This she figured, certainly covered the period since Carl himself had left Timbuktoo, and continued, “I had them look over all the books and through all their files, and having done so, they were positive that no cable of any sort had been received for you from Timbuktoo or any other place in Africa. In fact, you did not receive any foreign messages since you returned from abroad.”