“Outside for Robert?” he inquired amiably. “Very well. There is no Buttinsky blood in the Penway family. Let me just fix myself a high-ball and borrow one of your cigars and I’ll go and sit in the car and commune with nature. Take your time.”
“Just a moment, Mamie,” said Kirk, when he had gone. He picked up a telegram which lay on the table. “I’ll read this and see if it’s important, and then we’ll get right down to business. We only got back a moment before you arrived, so I’m a bit behind with my correspondence.”
As he read the telegram a look of astonishment came into his face. He sat down and read the message a second time. Mamie waited patiently.
“Good Lord!” he muttered.
A sudden thought struck Mamie.
“Mr. Winfield, is it from Steve?” she said.
Kirk started, and looked at her incredulously.
“How on earth did you know? Good Heavens! Are you in this, Mamie, too?”
Mamie handed him her note. He read it without a word. When he had finished he sat back in his chair, thinking.
“I thought Steve might have telegraphed to you,” said Mamie.