THE two lawyers and the telephone boy looked curiously at Miss Renfield.
“I am going out to some telephone,” she said. “I will then call up the office, and each of you, in turn, may speak to me over the wire. I am sure I can tell exactly who is talking, though I am not very familiar with this gentleman’s voice,” and she looked at Mr. Cutler.
“That is the junior member of our firm,” explained Mr. Boise. “I think that will be a fair experiment.”
“I hope it will convince Mr. Cutler that I can recognize voices over the wire,” went on the central operator.
“It ought to be easy to do that,” sneered Mr. Cutler. “You know that only we three are here.”
“You may bring in any other persons you choose,” said Miss Renfield readily, “and, though I may not be able to tell who they are, by name, I will be able to distinguish their voices from yours.”
“That will do,” assented Mr. Boise. “We are ready for the test; eh, Tom?”
“Certainly,” replied our hero, grateful to the girl who had, so opportunely, come to his aid.
Miss Renfield went out, and, in order to make the experiment more certain, a couple of clerks from a neighboring office, who happened to be staying late, were called in. The real reason for the experiment, however, was not explained to them.
Presently Miss Renfield called up. As there were several branch telephones in the law office, at Mr. Boise’s suggestion himself, his partner, Tom, and the two clerks each took one, and Tom connected them all on one central wire.
“Now we are ready,” said Mr. Boise, over the wire.
“Oh, you are Mr. Boise,” exclaimed the girl. “I would know your voice anywhere.”
“That was easy enough to do,” spoke Mr. Cutler, and he talked right into the telephone which was before him, on his desk. Those engaged in the experiment were in rooms opening from the main one, where the switchboard was, and could see each other.
“That was Mr. Cutler,” came back Miss Renfield’s tones, calmly.
“Ah! She had you that time!” exclaimed Mr. Boise.
He motioned for one of the clerks to speak, and the girl at once announced that a stranger was talking. Then the senior partner nodded to Tom.
“That’s the switchboard boy!” exclaimed the girl, so that all heard her. “I know his name is Tom, but I don’t know his last name.”
“Baldwin,” answered our hero, blushing the least bit. “I am much obliged to you.”
The experiment was tried for some time longer, but each time Miss Renfield was able to tell whether one of the strange clerks, or Mr. Boise, Tom, or Mr. Cutler was speaking.
“I think that is proof enough,” remarked Mr. Boise to her over the wire. “Come in, please.”
The two clerks left, Mr. Boise thanking them for their assistance, and Miss Renfield came back to the office.
“I am fully satisfied,” said the senior partner, “that this young lady is right.”
“Then you think Tom did not send that message?” asked Elias Cutler.
“I do not believe he did.”
“Well, who is guilty, then?”
“I can not say. I suppose you would not be able to tell, if you heard the voice of every one in my employ, which voice it was that talked the second time to the law office of Mr. Kittridge?” he asked the girl.
“Of course, she wouldn’t!” exclaimed Mr. Cutler hastily. “That would be impossible. If she could, it would be no evidence.”
He seemed alarmed over something.
“I would not like to make a decision regarding a voice when such an important matter is involved,” said the girl gravely. “I am not familiar with some of the tones of your clerks, as they only talk over the ’phone occasionally. But I could not be mistaken in the voice of Tom Baldwin,” she added, as she smiled once more at the boy whom she had so completely vindicated.
“I am glad of it,” remarked Mr. Boise. “I never for a moment believed Tom guilty, but I am glad his innocence is so firmly established. I am afraid we shall not discover who sent the message, but I am sure of one thing.”
“What is that?” asked his partner quickly.
“That whoever did it is an enemy of this firm—I may say a traitor, for it was some one in this office, of that I am positive. If I ever discover who it was, I shall deal severely with him.”
Mr. Cutler turned aside and entered his office without a word.
“I believe I need detain you no longer, Tom,” said Mr. Boise. “It is long after your regular hour. I think we shall have to raise your salary again, if we keep you working overtime like this,” and he smiled at the boy.
“I don’t mind staying,” said Tom genially, “though of course if you’re going to give me more money, I’ll not get out an injunction against you,” and he laughed.
“Ah, I see that you are coming on with your study of the law,” commented his employer. “Well, we’ll take the matter under advisement,” he said, in the manner of a judge finishing up a case, “and we will let you know later. Good-night. Good-night, Miss Renfield.”
Tom and the central girl walked out of the office together.
“I’m ever so much obliged to you,” said Tom, as they went down in the elevator.
“Oh, that’s nothing,” replied his companion, whom Tom, stealing a look at now and then, thought quite the prettiest girl he had ever seen. It was the second time he had thought the same thing that day.
“So you are the young lady who told me how to fix the cord and plug,” went on our hero.
“Yes. You see I’ve been in the central office for some years now, and I’m getting quite interested in the work. I have a brother who is an electrician, and he tells me lots about the instruments, so I have more advantages than the other girls. I often fix my switchboard when it gets out of order.”
“You are quite talented.”
“Oh, it comes natural to me. But, say, I didn’t want to speak of it to Mr. Boise, but I have a suspicion who sent that message.”
“Who?” asked Tom quickly.
“Well, I shouldn’t want you to repeat it, but when that cross man—Mr. Cutler, I believe his name is—when he was talking this afternoon, his voice sounded a good deal like the one that sent the second message to the Kittridge firm. I am not positive enough of it to tell Mr. Boise so, for I think Mr. Cutler tried to disguise his voice, but I’d advise you to keep your eyes open.”
“I will,” declared Tom. “I think he has a grudge against me, because I found out something about him. I’ll be on the watch, and the next queer move he makes, I’ll tell Mr. Boise.”
The two young people walked on together for some distance farther, and Tom was glad to find that the pretty girl lived quite near him.
“I wish I could meet your brother,” he said. “Perhaps he would tell me something about telephones, so I could fix my switchboard if it got out of order.”
“Come around some evening, and I will introduce you to him,” promised Miss Renfield, and Tom earnestly said that he would make the call.