A rap at the door of the office made Paul Savage step to[Pg 5] the door with an irritable wrinkling upon his lean face of a score of lines which had not been there before, while James Mallory growled from behind his desk.
“Oh, Colonel Pearson?â€� ejaculated Savage, with forced toleration, as he found himself face to face with one of the house’s guests. “Is there anything——â€�
Colonel Pearson was a cleanly built, soldierly looking man, with broad shoulders and a remarkably keen face. The dark eyes had a way of looking through anybody on whom they rested. At least, that was the conclusion to which Paul Savage had come. He was in summer attire, and had the calm insouciance of the wealthy man of leisure.
“I have received a telegram,� remarked the colonel, holding up a crumpled yellow paper. “It has only just got to me. I came at once to see what it was all about.�
“Telegram? I have only sent one since I have been here, and that was to a person in New York.�
The colonel smiled.
“Exactly. You sent it to a person who was supposed to be in New York. But it happens that he was much nearer.�
“I don’t understand,� faltered Savage.
“I don’t, either,� added Mallory, who had been sitting behind his desk, listening in bewilderment. “Do you know anything about that person, Colonel Pearson?�
“If you will permit me to close the door,� was the response, “I will tell you.�