Carhart is going on a journey and wishes the book to
read while on the train."
"I will deliver the book within fifteen minutes," Mr. Prescott
promised. "At the Gideon Wells place, did you say? I didn't
know that it had a tenant."
"Mrs. Carhart has taken the place for the summer. I will rely
upon you to deliver the book immediately. Thank you; good-bye."
"I suppose you have an appointment with the crowd, Dick," smiled
his father, as he hung up the receiver. "I don't like to get
in the way of your fun, but I shall have to ask you to deliver
the book, for the profit on that volume is too large to be overlooked."
"I don't mind going," Dick answered. "I can get back just a little
late. I'm all ready as soon as you have the book wrapped and
the bill made out."
Three or four minutes later Dick left the store. At the corner
of Main Street he looked to see whether any of his chums were
visible, but none were. So he turned and started, traveling fast.
Had young Prescott answered the 'phone call himself he very likely
would have suspected that the voice of the customer was that of
Bert Dodge disguised. However, as it was, the Grammar School
boy had no suspicion whatever. He made part of the distance at
a jog trot. He was soon in the less thickly inhabited part of
the town, down in a section of large estates, many of which were
used only as summer homes.
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