John announced, “A wire for me,” he said. “I'm afraid—” He tore open the envelope. “Yes, I thought so. Mr. Griffin is worse and they want me at once. Every minute counts, they say. I must go—now. When is the next train for Boston, Captain?”
Daniel was very much flustered. “I don't know,” he stammered. “There's a time-table around on deck somewheres, but—you ain't goin' now, John? To-night?”
“Yes, I must.”
Gertrude hastened to find the time-table. John turned to the messenger.
“Know anything about Boston trains?” he asked.
“Yup. Two-twenty express through from New York. That's the next.”
John stepped to the drawing-room and looked at the clock. “I can get it, I think,” he announced. “I must. If I can get a cab—”
“I'll 'phone for one. But—but, John, you hadn't ought to—”
“Any answer?” demanded the messenger boy, intent on business.
“Yes. Say that I am leaving on the two-twenty. On the two-twenty. Got that, have you?”