"Well, great George Washington!" murmured Julius to himself as he replaced the receiver on the hook and reinserted his pipe in his mouth, to emit immediately thereafter a mighty puff of smoke. "I knew the fellow was a hustler, but I should suppose that when he comes up from South America to telephone he might spend sixty or seventy seconds at it. Must be a sudden move; no hint of it in his last letter."
He consulted his watch. He would have to emulate Waldron's haste if he reached the Warrington Street Station by ten o'clock. He made a number of rapid moves, resulting in his catching a through car which bore him downtown at express speed and landed him in the big station at a minute before ten. Hurrying through the crowd he came suddenly face to face with the man he sought.
Tanned to a seasoned brown, and looking as vigorous as a lusty pine tree,
Waldron shook hands warmly.
But before Julius had more than begun his expressions of pleasure at seeing his friend again so unexpectedly Waldron turned and indicated a young man's figure in a wheelchair. "That's my friend and associate engineer, Hackett, over there. He's had a very bad illness and I'm taking him home. We'll go over and speak to him in a minute. Meanwhile, I shall have to talk fast. First—is your sister Dorothy well?" The direct gaze had in it no apology for speaking thus abruptly.
"Fine," Julius assured him. "Haven't you heard from her lately?"
"Not since I sailed—naturally—nor for a fortnight before that. I came away very unexpectedly, sooner than I should have done but for Hackett, who needed to get home. But the trip combines that errand with a lot of business—seeing the Company directors, consulting with the firm, looking up machinery and getting it shipped back with me on the next boat. I haven't an hour to spare anywhere but on this flying trip to Hackett's home, which will take twenty-four hours, and I shall have to work night and day. And—I want to see your sister."
Again the direct look, accompanied this time, by a smile which was like a sudden flash of sunshine, as Julius well remembered. Waldron did not smile too often, but when he did smile—well, one wanted to do what he asked.
"Does she know?" Julius demanded.
"Not a word; there was no way to let her know except to cable, and I—have no right to send her cable orders—or requests. Broughton, as I figure it out, I have just one chance to see her, and that only with your cooperation—and hers. I don't believe I need explain to you that it seems to me I must see her; going back without it is unthinkable. I don't know when I may be North again. Yet I can't neglect Hackett or my duty to the Company."
"Then—how the dickens—"