“I guess so, as long as it isn’t anything rash.”
“No, it won’t cause any permanent harm to any one, but it will knock Clinton out from playing the game, and that’s what I’m after. Now come on. I want to get to Haddonfield before the college crowd starts. It won’t do to be seen where we’re going, or there might be an inquiry afterward.”
About an hour later Langridge and Gerhart were in the telegraph office at Haddonfield. There might have been noticed about the sophomore a trace of nervousness as he walked up to the little window and inquired how long it would take to get some money from his uncle in Chicago.
“I want it to come by telegraph,” Langridge explained. “I need it in a hurry.”
“Yes, you college chaps usually do,” said the agent. “Well, you can get it late to-night, I suppose, if you send a wire to Chicago now. How much would you need?”
“Oh, a couple of hundred; maybe five hundred.”
The agent whistled.
“That’s more than we have on hand here at a time,” he said. “I’d have to get it from the bank, and that couldn’t be done until morning.”
“Well, there’s no great hurry,” went on Langridge. “Would I have to be identified to get it? My guardian—that’s my uncle—frequently sends me money by telegraph when I’m off on trips.”