“Certainly you may,” said the ranchman, good-naturedly. “You’ll find the ’phone over there in that corner.”
“I’ll do the best I can for you, fellows,” chirped Cranny.
“Let Mr. Clifton ’phone,” suggested Willie. “Carroll’ll think it’s a man.”
Cranny’s vigorous “Hello!” presently sounded. But, to his disappointment, he found that the voice at the other end of the wire belonged to one of Major Carroll’s mechanicians.
“The boss isn’t here,” he heard. “A crowd of boys want to see the balloon? Yes, I’ll tell him. At Circle T Ranch, are you? Call us up some time to-morrow. Good-bye!”
“Why not have a word or two with your friends at Lone Pine?” suggested Mr. Follett.
“A jolly good idea,” cried Cranny, enthusiastically.
Mr. Follett showed Cranny how to get the proper wire, and the big lad was presently roaring:
“Hello; this is Cranny Beaumont!—C-r-a-n-n-y! Do you get me? Ha, ha! That you, Mr. Ogden? Yes; Bob Somers and the whole crowd are here. Been expecting us, hey? Thanks awfully. Oh, fine and dandy. When?—Just wait a second.”
Cranny swung quickly around.