THE farmer chuckled at his joke, as he passed into the apartments of Mr. Boise, whence, presently, his voice could be heard discussing his case.
“I wouldn’t care for many clients like him,” thought Tom, “though he meant well enough. I’d have to explain too much to them.”
He resumed his perusal of the law book, until a drop of one of the black disks told him some one from outside wished to talk to a member of the firm. The call was for Mr. Cutler, and, when he had made the connection Tom threw up the cam, so that he could not hear what was being said.
For, several times of late, the junior partner had accused the telephone boy of listening to the conversations that went on over the wire.
“I’ll not give him a chance this time,” thought Tom.
A little later he received a call from the central girl operator. One of the trunk lines did not work just right, and the girl wanted Tom to test it, before a man was sent out to repair it. The young lady was a pleasant-voiced one, and, before he knew it, Tom was exchanging a few jokes with her.
She suggested how he himself might get the wire to work better, by making a little adjustment to the switchboard, and he did so.
“How’s that?” he asked. “Can you hear me any better?”
“Much better,” she replied. “You ought to go into the telephone business.”
Then, whether it was something he unconsciously did to the switchboard, or whether the central operator made some unusual connection, Tom never knew. At any rate he found he was “cut in” on the wire over which Mr. Cutler was talking.
And, as Tom listened for a moment, not meaning to, he became aware that the man on the other end of the wire was Barton Sandow. And what he said was this:
“I’m almost ready to do the trick now. I have the papers safe.”
Then there came a buzzing on the wire, and Tom heard no more, but he had listened to enough to understand that whatever game there was between Sandow and the junior partner was still being carried on.
“I want to test that other wire,” came the voice of the central girl, a moment later, and Tom, at her request “gave her a ring,” that is, he depressed the button which flashed a tiny electric light on the switchboard at which she sat in the distant central office.
“That’s all right,” she announced. “Good-by.”
“I believe I’d like to meet that girl,” thought Tom. “If it wasn’t against the rules for her to talk to me, except on business, I’d ask her name. I’ve almost a good notion to do it anyhow. But I don’t want to get her into trouble. I must ask Charley Grove what would happen in case a supervisor overheard her talking to me just for fun.”
He was interrupted in his pleasant thoughts by the necessity of disconnecting Mr. Cutler’s ’phone, as the drop of a disk indicated that the lawyer was through talking. Then a door opened and Mr. Boise and Mr. Kendall came out into the main office.
“Wa’al, I’ll do jest as you say, of course, Mr. Boise,” the farmer was saying, in his loud voice. “If you think it’s best to let my neighbor Simpson start to tear out that dam, an’ then git an injunction, I’m willin’ to do it. Only I’d stop him with a gun, if I had my way.”
“No; if you leave the matter in our hands, you must do as we say,” insisted Mr. Boise. “But don’t let it be known that you are going to let him start to destroy the dam that holds back the water. In fact don’t mention it anywhere. I’d rather you wouldn’t have spoken of it here, as you never know who will hear what you will say, and, if this got out, it might lose you your case.”
“Is that so? I didn’t mean to speak so loud. But I guess your telephone boy won’t tell, will he?”
“Oh, no,” answered Mr. Boise with a smile. “We trust Tom, but it’s best to be on the safe side.”
Tom was grateful for this mark of confidence. As he turned in his chair, to pick up his bookmark that had fallen to the floor, he caught sight of Mr. Cutler’s door. It was partly open and the lawyer was peering out, looking at the farmer and Mr. Boise. As he saw Tom’s eyes turned toward him, the junior partner quickly closed the portal.
“He was listening,” thought Tom. “I’m getting more and more suspicious of him every day. Yet, perhaps, I have no right to be.”
But if Tom could have overheard what was said between the young lawyer and Barton Sandow that night, when the two met in a certain cafe near Scollay Square he would have had more cause than ever for his suspicions.
“Do you think it will work?” Sandow asked, after the two had conversed at some length.
“It’s bound to. I’ll telephone when Tom is out at lunch. One of the clerks is left in charge, and I can easily get rid of him for a few minutes, on some excuse.”
“But can you imitate his voice?”
“Whose? Tom’s? Oh, well enough. Kittridge, the lawyer who has the other side of the Kendall case, doesn’t know my voice, and he doesn’t know Tom in the least. I’ll pretend I’m the office boy, and that I have a grudge against the firm, because they won’t raise my wages. All Kittridge needs is a tip about the dam, and he can win the case. Kendall will lose it, and then I’ll casually suggest to Boise that there must have been a leak somewhere. There’ll be an inquiry, and Tom will be discharged. Then we can proceed without having him sneaking in on us, at every chance he gets.”
“Yes, it will be easier with him out of the way. The old doctor has taken quite a notion to him. But he’s so forgetful everything ought to be easy.”
“Did you bring the papers?”
“Yes; here they are. He left them in his study under a book, but, as there are five hundred books there he’ll have a task to remember under which one they were put. He can’t remember, and, before he can do anything to protect himself, the property will be disposed of, and you’ll have your share.”
“Not so loud,” cautioned Elias Cutler, looking around apprehensively. “Some one might hear you.”
“Why, you’re not afraid, are you?”
“No—not exactly, as everything is safe, but be careful, Barton.”
“If we get rid of Tom Baldwin we’ll have nothing more to fear, as neither Boise nor Keen suspect that we have anything to do with each other; do they?” asked Mr. Sandow.
“Not in the least. If they did—well, I know I’d be looking for another position.”
The two conversed for some time further, and then prepared to separate.
“When will you work the trick?” asked Mr. Sandow.
“As soon as possible. To-morrow, if I get a chance.”
It was several days after this that, one afternoon, Mr. Boise came into the office from the court house, where he had been all day, trying a case.
“What’s the matter?” inquired Mr. Keen, of his partner. “You look annoyed.”
“And I have good cause to be,” replied the lawyer. “I lost the Kendall case.”
“What! That one where the old farmer was mixed up in some action over water-rights and a dam?”
“That’s it. I had a good case, and we were going to apply for an injunction as soon as Simpson, who is the party Kendall had the dispute with, started to cut the dam. But, it seems Simpson’s lawyer, Amos Kittridge, got wind of the affair. He knew what we were going to do, and he took action that caused our case to be thrown out of court. My client, Mr. Kendall lost, and he is very angry about it.”
“How do you suppose Kittridge learned of your side of the case?” asked Mr. Keen, while Tom listened anxiously.
“I don’t know. He’s a trickster, but when he won he laughed at me, and as much as hinted that the leak came from this office.”
“From this office?”
“Yes. He advised me to pay my help better, then they wouldn’t be dissatisfied, and give away the details of our cases. I tell you, Mr. Keen, this is a serious matter, and I am going to have an investigation. I want to see all the clerks in my office. Some news went out of here that shouldn’t have gone, and it lost us the case. It was given over the telephone, Kittridge as much as said. Tom, I shall have to question you. Do not go home this afternoon, until I have seen you. Kittridge is a trickster, and a sneak, but what he did is legal, though it is not right. But if I find out who gave him the tip, it will go hard with him!”
Mr. Boise looked sterner than Tom had ever seen him before, and the telephone boy, though he knew he had had nothing to do with the matter, felt a little apprehensive.
“If some one used this telephone to talk to Mr. Kittridge with,” mused Tom, “it may involve me.”