The messenger bowed and started away, accompanied by Ben.
“I don’t understand about the telegrams having been sent to the field,” Mr. Havens went on, as the two left the breakfast table and sauntered into the lobby of the hotel. “I left positive instructions with Mr. Mellen to have all messages delivered here. I also left instructions with the clerk to send any messages to my room, no matter what time they came. The instructions were very explicit.”
“Oh, you know how things get balled up in telegraph offices, and messenger offices, and post-offices!” grinned Glenn. “Probably Mr. Mellen left the office early in the evening, and the man in charge got lazy, or indifferent, or forgetful, and sent the messages to the wrong place.”
While the two talked together, Mr. Mellen strolled into the hotel and approached the corner of the lobby where they sat.
“Good-morning!” he said taking a chair at their side. “Anything new concerning the southern trip?”
“Not a thing!” replied Mr. Havens. “Sam went out in the Ann, for a short run last night, and we’re only waiting for his return in order to continue our journey. We expect to be away by noon.”
“I hope I shall hear from you often,” the manager said.
“By the way,” the millionaire remarked, “what about the telegrams which were sent out to the field last night?”
“No telegrams for you were sent out to the field last night!” was the reply. “The telegrams directed to you are now at the hotel desk, unless you have called for them.”
“But a messenger from the field reports that several telegrams for me were received there. I don’t understand this at all.”