“Not exactly. I laid the case before her, and she said she was sure of one thing.”
“What is that?”
“That is that the person who is regularly at our switchboard did not call for the office of Kittridge the second time.”
“That’s nonsense!” exclaimed Mr. Cutler. “How can she remember a person’s voice?”
“You may ask her yourself,” said Mr. Boise, as he turned to the pretty girl. “Allow me to introduce to you Miss Minnie Renfield, who is the young lady in charge of the trunk lines from our office. Miss Renfield, just tell Mr. Cutler and Tom, here, what you told me.”
“I have been a central operator for a number of years,” said Miss Renfield, with an engaging smile. “I have a very good memory for voices. After I hear a voice over the telephone once or twice, I never forget it. Several of my friends can do the same thing.
“I know the voice of your private exchange operator very well. I have had quite some conversation with him lately, about one of the wires that was out of order. I know his voice as soon as he calls for a number.”
Tom smiled. This, then, was the girl whom he had wished to meet. He had his wish, now, but he would have been glad had it been under happier circumstances.
“Do you mean to say that you can recognize voices over the telephone?” demanded Mr. Cutler.
“Yes, sir; I can. I remember the two calls for the Kittridge office. I have to make a note of every call, and those two were on a new wire, that has recently been put in. The first call was made by your regular operator, I am sure of that.”