The operator scowled at the little fellow and turned to the officer with the remark that he should be obliged to consult with his superior.
"All right," was the officer's reply. "Only make haste."
The operator entered a back room and presently returned with a boy who evidently served as messenger during the daytime. After receiving whispered instructions, the lad passed out of the office, with a furtive glance over his shoulder at Jimmie.
Then the operator went back to his desk, while the officer and Ned stood waiting. There was no fire in the outer office, but a wave of warm air came from the rear room.
"We have been riding in the rain," the officer said, seeing that they were not to be invited into the heated apartment. "May we go back to the fire?"
The operator scowled, but the uniform won the day, and the three were ushered into a small room where an American oil stove was sending forth a generous heat. Then the grouchy operator slammed the door and left his guests to their own reflections.
"Say," Jimmie whispered, in a moment, "I don't believe that chump is on the level!"
"Well," Ned replied, "he's got to give me the dispatch. He can't get out of doing that."
"Perhaps he knows what the message contains," the officer suggested, "and is not inclined to deliver it."
"I hardly think he knows what it contains," Ned answered, "for it is undoubtedly in cipher."