“You ain’t? Then what ye got that contraption on yer head for?”
“Oh, that’s the telephone receiver. I have it clamped over my ear so I will have both hands free to use on the plugs.”
“Oh!” remarked Mr. Kendall. “I wondered what in the world it was for. Suthin’ like blinders on a hoss.”
Just then one of the drops fell, and Tom, inserting a plug, heard Mr. Boise speaking to him.
“I’ll see Mr. Kendall now,” he said.
“Mr. Boise will attend to your case now,” repeated Tom to the farmer.
“Wa’al, I’ll be switched, ef that ain’t quite an invention,” exclaimed the farmer, as he arose to go into the inner office. “I never heard of telephonin’ to a man twenty feet from ye. Next thing they’ll be havin’ flyin’ machines t’ go from one room t’ another.”
CHAPTER XVII
A MEAN PLOT
The farmer chuckled at his joke, as he passed into the apartments of Mr. Boise, whence, presently, his voice could be heard discussing his case.
“I wouldn’t care for many clients like him,” thought Tom, “though he meant well enough. I’d have to explain too much to them.”