“I wonder what he meant when he said he could have done McClintick a favor by answering the ’phone?” Tom asked Brent, after Peters had left us.
“I guess he felt he had the power to act as medium and relay the ghost’s message to Mr. McClintick, had he been able to answer the phone!” Brent teased.
“Seriously though,” I said, “leaving the ghost entirely out of this, someone did want to speak to McClintick badly. The telephone company’s action regarding their employee authenticates that much.”
“Yes,” Brent said, “and I believe that Minnie wasn’t talking entirely through her hat, either.”
“What do you mean, Brent?” Tom asked. “You think it really was the son still alive?”
“I do! The very same.”
“I’d hardly say that, Brent,” I remarked.
“Not only did we see the young fellow’s grave, but Peters confirms it to be his also.” Brent smiled disdainfully and flicked some ashes across the hearth.
“Granted, my revered friend,” he said, in solemn tones. “But the fact that we saw a grave doesn’t prove it’s the grave of young Rolly. Nor does Peters’ confirmation mean a thing. After all he doesn’t know any more than we do, and we don’t know anything, yet.”
“In other words,” Tom said, with a tinge of sarcasm, “you don’t believe anything! Perhaps you could give us a little hint as to the reason for your skepticism, eh?”