“I’m not particularly hungry,” said Jack. “If you fellows feel the same way about it, suppose we defer luncheon until we have seen Mr. McKay. Probably we can catch him at his office now. But if we lunch first, there is no telling when we can get to see him. These business men take three or four hours for lunch lots of times.”
“Lead on,” said Frank. “Do you know where his office is located?” 37
“At Times Square,” said Bob. “I’ve been there once with Dad. Come on. We’ll take the Subway. It’s only one station up the line.”
The three boys were familiar with the great city, having lived on Long Island all their lives. Although many miles distant from New York, they were frequent visitors. Crossing the big waiting room, they entered the West Side subway, and a few minutes later disembarked from an express train at the Times Square station. Mounting to the surface, Bob led the way to a towering office building. An express elevator shot them to the twentieth story, and there they entered the anteroom of a handsome suite of offices occupied by the J. B. McKay Realty Corporation, and inquired of the information clerk—a young woman—for the head of the firm. Here, however, they met disappointment. Mr. McKay was not in the city.
“Mr. McKay’s secretary is here, however,” said the clerk, taking pity on their evident dismay. “Wait a moment and I’ll call him.”
She spoke into the telephone receiver, and then nodded brightly.
“Mr. Higginbotham will see you,” she said. “He is in that corner office.”
Jack was undecided. He looked to his companions. 38
“Shall we try him?”
“May as well,” said Frank. “Probably he can give us the information we want, just as well as Mr. McKay.”