Before he had finished the sentence, Conway had rushed over to a telephone booth and had the receiver at his ear. He was back in a minute, his face flushed.
"I've had Warrington's apartments. His housekeeper tells me that he went to Wynnwood this morning. He told her he would take dinner there and return in time for the meeting of your Committee this afternoon. Barry," he concluded, "get me a suburban timetable."
Quickly the page boy returned with a railroad schedule. Conway looked it over feverishly. He gave a groan.
"What's the matter?" asked Carlton.
"There's only one train out of that one-horse town this afternoon."
"I guess one train is sufficient to carry Warrington," retorted Carlton, with forced gaiety.
"Yes," said the other, dropping the timetable with a gesture of disgust, "but it won't leave Wynnwood until half-past four. That means that he can't get here until after five o'clock."
"What does that mean?" asked the Congressman, anxiously.
"It means that your bill is beaten unless you can have it amended tomorrow."