“I gueth I am,” answered Tommy.
“I don’t want a girl, I want a boy. Here, Charlie Mabie, come here—on the jump. You are the swiftest runner at hare and hounds, especially when there’s a square meal at the other end. I want you to take this to Meadow-Brook at top speed. If you fall down, don’t stop to get up, just keep right on running. Run for your life,” commanded the captain breathlessly.
“Wha—at shall I do with it when I get to Meadow-Brook?” questioned Charlie.
“Send it!” exploded George.
“By mail?”
“No, by freight,” drawled Sam.
“By telegraph, of course.”
“What is it all about?” demanded Dill.
“Read it. They won’t understand anything until you do read it. No, give it to me. You’ll stumble over it and waste time. Listen, you people, to the telegram that is going to produce the real thing. Listen, I tell you: ‘You said you would do anything on earth for me. If you mean it, wire me that you are coming here on the next train ready to serve me to the limit for the next four weeks. It’s a case of life and death!’ Now, run, you Indian! Burn up the road, and WAIT for an answer even if you have to sleep on a baggage truck on the station platform. Go!”
Charlie Mabie started away at a long, loping run, quickly crossing the open space and disappearing in the forest beyond. Captain Baker sat down heavily, wiping the perspiration from his forehead with a sleeve.