But what will you
be doing all that time, Frank?"
"I want to write a message to either your father, or else Judge Lawson,
whichever she can get on the phone," replied the other, immediately
hunting in his pockets for pencil and paper, which he made it a habit to
carry around with him always.
"She--say, do you mean Sallie, Frank?"
"No other. You must coax her to saddle up a horse, and make for the
nearest neighbor where they've got a phone; get that, Andy?"
"But do you think she will?" asked the other, dubiously.
"I'm dead sure of it," came the confident reply. "Sallie has a touch of
romance in her make-up; and besides, shell be so mad to think of that
man deceiving her mother that she'll want to have him caught. Get along
with you, now, Andy, and fix it all up inside of ten minutes. I'll have
the message written out by that time, so she can start, if there's such
a thing as any kind of a horse around this wreck of a farm."
And so Andy, glad at least to have something to do, hurried toward the
house to look for the country girl.
Left alone, Frank continued to write as plainly as he could what he
wanted those in Bloomsbury to know about matters in general. He used as
few words to cover the case as possible, but gave the leading points,
even to stating his fear that the scoundrels who had robbed the bank,
and were plotting to also make a descent on the pay-car of the railroad
that night, had now taken the alarm, and would be off in the stolen
biplane.
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