CHAPTER XII
BAD NEWS FROM MILLVILLE
The word Millville had an instantaneous effect on Harry Boland. It was, in fact, the most pleasant sound he had heard in days. Upon returning to Chicago after his lover-like interview with Patience Welcome he had dispatched a long letter to her. To this he had received no reply. Then he wrote two letters in one day. Neither of them had been answered. Thoroughly disturbed now, but too busy to leave Chicago himself, Harry had sent his confidential man, John Clark, to Millville to learn, if possible, the cause of Patience’s silence.
While Harry stood eagerly waiting for the ’phone Miss Masters was busy getting the long distance connection.
“All right, Mr. Boland,” she said at last, “here’s your party.” Then into the telephone she continued: “Yes—Mr. Boland is here waiting. He will talk to Millville. Hello—hello—Millville? Hello!” She handed Harry the instrument.
“I wouldn’t answer that ’phone for a thousand dollars,” put in Grogan dolefully.
“Hello—hello!” exclaimed Harry.
A shrill whistle rent the air and Grogan jumped hysterically.
“What’s that?” he demanded.
“The postman’s whistle,” replied Miss Masters calmly, repressing a smile as she started for the outer door.