“I bet there’s a booth over in that little station,” Harry said; “why don’t you go over and see? It would be a big surprise, hey?”
I said, “You bet it would. Come on over and we’ll see if there’s one there, Westy.” The station that Harry spoke about was a little dinky station that we had passed about a half of a mile back. When we passed it, Harry said he guessed maybe it was the West Haverstraw Station. It was all dark even then. But anyway, Westy and I decided we would go back to it and see if it was open and if there was a ’phone booth there.
“Let’s wait till half-past nine before we start,” I said; “and then we’ll call up at exactly ten o’clock, because that’s the time they’ll all be going in for the eats and they’ll be giving the presents then, too. It’ll kind of seem as if I were there just at the right minute.”
So at half-past nine, Westy and I started down the road.
“Give her our best wishes,” Harry called after us.
It was awful dark and we could hardly see our way going along the road. A couple of times I went stumbling into the ditch. But, anyway, all the while I kept thinking about Marjorie and how it would look at home with all those people there and lots of presents and things.
“I’m mighty glad Harry thought about that,” I said.
Westy said, “Jiminies, it will be great. Just when they’re all sitting down around the table, all of a sudden the ’phone will ring——”
“Yop,” I said, “and Marjorie will answer it, because she always answers the ’phone, on account of Charlie Wentworth all the time calling her up. He’s in Philadelphia. That’s what makes the ’phone service so bad, because he keeps all the operators busy. Believe me, they ought to have a private wire. Anyway, that’s what my father says.”
“I bet you won’t be able to get her,” Westy said.