He handed her half a dollar and she reëntered the office.
Now Miss Davenport was a young person wise in her generation. She had
seen many men in many situations, and she realized that the man who had
handed her this particular telegram was in a condition bordering on
collapse. Had she seen fit to use a sporting term she would have said
that Ralston was "groggy" with nervousness and excitement. In addition
she was not devoid of the usual amount of feminine curiosity. At any
rate, her first move was to read the telegram.
"He's crazy!" she exclaimed under her breath. "Why, he doesn't even know
whether they got his name! And Jim's all right." She turned the message
over in her hand.
"I guess that telegram _can_ wait. There won't be anything in the
papers. The presses are locked at one o'clock."
"Say," she remarked to the sleepy operator, "what's the rate to
Washington, D. C.?"
"Twenty-five for ten words, and two cents a word over."
"Change that for me, will you? Let me have some coppers?"
The man fished out the small change and went back to his accounts.
Miss Davenport slipped the paper into her pocket and returned to the
cab.
"Nineteen cents change," she said, handing it to Ralston.
"Where to?" asked the cabby mechanically.
"West Forty-fifth Street," said Sullivan.
They started on. The street lamps were fast paling beneath the dawn. At
Thirty-third Street and Broadway a newsboy was hopping on the cars and
shouting his items. A strange thrill of determination had seized
Ralston. The die was cast now. There was nothing more to consider.
"Here's your _Morning Journal_!" cried the boy as the cab swung by. "New
Assistant Secretary of the Navy. Twelfth Regiment starts with a full
quota of officers!" He waved his sheets at them.
Inside the cab Ralston set his teeth.
"I'll make it a full quota!" he muttered.
They turned down Thirty-third Street into Fifth Avenue.
"Look here," said Sullivan suddenly, "all I do is to show him to you,
see? Understand, I don't get into no mix-up myself! My job ends when I
give you the pass."
"All right," said Ralston. "Just show him to me. That's all I ask."
"All right," repeated Sullivan.
They passed Forty-second Street and turned into Forty-fifth, just as the
lights in the crosstown cars had been put out.