“Oh, I’ll get along all right,” Nancy replied. She decided not to bother her father with the story of her afternoon’s adventure.
“I’ll help you all I can when I get back,” Carson Drew promised, as he tossed a number of unread letters into a pigeonhole and locked the desk. “Things probably won’t come to a crisis for several days, anyway.”
Glancing at his watch, he arose from his desk and hastily gathered up hat and traveling bag.
“I’ll drive you to the station,” Nancy offered.
“Fine! I think we’d better leave at once because I want to get a Pullman ticket and I haven’t a reservation.”
Mr. Drew made a last survey of the room to make sure that he had forgotten nothing. As he turned toward the door, the telephone jangled.
“Hang it all!” he exclaimed impatiently. “It would have to ring when I’m in a hurry!” Dropping the bag, he snatched up the receiver. “Hello? Yes, this is Carson Drew. What’s that?”
Nancy recognized the tense quality to her father’s voice and glanced at him in startled surprise. She saw by the expression of his face that the telephone message was disturbing.
Carson Drew held the receiver to his ear for what seemed to Nancy at least five minutes. Then he said:
“Thanks, Williams, for tipping me off,” and hung up. When he turned to his daughter, his face was grave. “Well, this changes everything,” he said quietly.
“What does?”