CHAPTER XI
BOJO BUTTS IN
Sunday the four were accustomed to lounge through the morning and saunter down the Avenue for a late luncheon at the Brevoort. On the present date, Granning was stretched on the window-seat re-reading a favorite novel of Dumas, Bojo and Marsh pulling at their pipes in a deep discussion of an important rumor which might considerably affect the downward progress of Pittsburgh & New Orleans—a possible investigation by certain Southern States which was the talk of the office—while Fred at the piano was replaying by ear melodies from last night's comic opera, when the telephone rang.
"You answer it, Bojo," said DeLancy, "and hist, be cautious!"
Bojo did as commanded, saying almost immediately:
"Party for you, Freddie."
"Male or female voice?"
"Male."
DeLancy rose with a look of relief and tripped over to the receiver. But almost immediately he crumpled up with a simulation of despair. Bojo and Marsh exchanged a glance, and Granning ceased reading, at muffled sounds of explanation which reached them from the other room.