He reflected rapidly. The situation was undoubtedly serious. Windsor would never have given such a message unless he had some incriminatory evidence—yet what could he have?
The telephone rang. Armstrong picked up the receiver.
"Hello, Dorns? Oh, pretty well, thanks! Something very important has just come up. I must get to Indianapolis Monday morning sure—I'll catch a late train to-night. When I get there I'll want help. Can you put me in touch with your agent there?"
"Better'n that," responded Dorns quickly. "I've got to be in Chicago next Saturday. I can spare a few days in Indianapolis. But can't you catch that train at five this afternoon?"
"Yes."
"Good. That gives us a clear night's sleep in a bed before Monday wakes up. Same old fight, is it?"
"Yes, only something new this time. A fighting chance to put the enemy down and out. Bully for you, Dorns! I'll get that five o'clock train."
"All right. You get the reservations—I'll meet you at the gate five minutes before the train goes. I'm busy. So long."
Armstrong turned from the telephone. The thought of Dorothy leaped into his mind with a swiftly searching pang; he could not conquer it. After all, Indianapolis was so close to Evansville! He had no definite reason for seeing Tom Windsor, other than to demand a hearing. Perhaps, despite warnings, he would not have bothered about going except that—
"Maybe I'm a fool," he thought moodily. "I wonder if I've let this Windsor menace impress me too strongly—because of Evansville? It's not too late to change my mind—no, I'll go!"