"Oh! well, so-so. It ain't been so long ago since I was a boy too. There's some things I ain't forgot. That's all, Lanky. So-long!"
A click, and he knew that the interview was off. Lanky hung up the receiver at his end with a thoughtful look on his face. Why, instead of his having solved the mystery that overhung the identity of the fellow, things really seemed darker than ever.
"Sure he knows me, too, else why would he call me Lanky all the time? And then again he saw me going into my own gate last night! Now, how did he know this was my home? Um! blessed if I can make head or tail of it at all. Bill's going to be as great a mystery to me as the Man in the Iron Mask is in history. But I'd better be getting a move on if I want to warn the fellows before we start that game."
With that he clapped his cap on, drew an overcoat over his sweater, and skates in hand rushed from the house.
Five minutes later he burst into the corner drug store, where the public pay telephone booth was located to which the other had had reference. Lanky was of course well known to both the druggist and his assistant, the latter of whom he found on duty at that hour in the morning.
"Hello! Socrates, coming down to the river this morning?" was his first question; for Lanky had inherited the clever diplomatic habits of his legal parent, and knew just how to gradually approach the main issue.
"I hadn't thought of it, Lanky. Why, what's going on?" demanded the young drug clerk, one of Columbia's fans on the baseball bleachers, and a fellow quite devoted to every form of outdoor healthy sport.
"We're going to have a little rub with a scrub team, so as to keep in training for the great game with Clifford's Seven after Christmas. Better come down."
"I will, if I can get away. Saturday is a busy day with us, you see. I heard that you had challenged Clifford, and got their acceptance. Wish you luck, Lanky. It's punishment to me to be kept behind this counter when you fellows are out in the open having a jolly time," and Socrates Jones sighed as he spoke.
"By the way, did a fellow just use your 'phone here, a rather tall chap, looking kind of seedy; in fact he might pass for a hobo?" and Lanky put the question without betraying any unusual interest.