“It’s personal. Just say I would like to see him.”
The policeman nodded and very lazily picked up his telephone. “Hello, hello,” he called into the speaker, “give me the chief’s office.” He waited for several seconds, in the meanwhile looking the boys up and down. Again he spoke into the mouthpiece, saying, “There’s a boy here by the name of Ken Armstrong who wants to see the chief. Says that the chief knows him and will surely—most surely—see him.” The policeman scowled as he said that. Again he waited for an answer. Several seconds later, he answered, “All right.”
He hung up the receiver and turned to Ken. “I guess he knows you all right.” Ken was overjoyed while his two friends were glad and cheerful. “Go down to the end of the corridor,” directed the sergeant, “and then turn left. On the door that says Police Chief, go in there and his secretary will take care of you.”
“Thank you,” said Ken.
The three boys walked down the corridor and turned left. They entered the office of the Chief of Police and his secretary, a very attractive young woman, greeted them. “Which of you is Ken?” she asked.
Ken spoke up. “I am.”
“Very well. Have a seat and Mr. Bates will see you in a few minutes. He is busy just now.”
The boys sat down and the secretary returned to her desk and typewriter. To the boys it seemed that she typed faster than the eye could follow. They looked around the room and noticed the various pictures and other office furniture. Every moment was to them an hour. Jack was sure that the chief would take one look at them and then throw them out of his office. Paul wondered how it happened Ken was acquainted with Chief Bates and made a mental note to ask his friend about it.
A buzzer sounded in the room and the boys jumped up. The secretary nodded and said, “You can go in now, Ken.”
Ken proceeded toward the door, followed by his friends. The secretary stopped them. “I thought only Ken was going in?”