“Mrs. Ringold suspected nothing wrong?”
“Why should she?”
“Nor you, when she informed you?”
“Certainly not. The messenger told a plausible story. He appeared trustworthy, or my wife would have detected it. Is there something wrong, then, that you have called here?” Mr. Ringold demanded, a bit impatiently.
Nick then told him the circumstances, or in so far as served his purpose, while his hearer gazed amazedly and with manifest regret.
“By Jove, this is most astonishing, Carter,” he then said gravely. “Who would have thought of such an imposition? I care less for having been cheated out of a fine evening’s enjoyment, than that our invitation cards have been turned to such a despicable use. I will ask my wife to join us, if you wish to question her.”
“You may, Ringold, if you have no objection,” said Nick. “I want a description of the messenger, also any other information that your wife can give me.”
“I will speak to her.”
“Gee, it looks like a neatly framed-up job, chief, for fair,” said Patsy, while they waited.
“Decidedly so,” Nick agreed. “See whether that telephone is in working order.”