Promptly at 2 o'clock I called up my attorney again. This time one of his clerks answered, stating that the gentleman was engaged, but to "hold the phone" and he would be through in about fifteen minutes. Needless to say that I didn't "hold." This holding business was getting monotonous, and without caring whether or not he thought that I would do as requested, I hung up the receiver and drove away.
Fifteen minutes having elapsed, and being close to two miles away from the last station, I hitched my horse and called up again. This time I got my party, and he started in by claiming that he had called on the landlady again, but that she had remonstrated against any attempt to remove the grip, declaring that detectives were watching the house day and night. My attorney was of the same opinion and did not care to risk bringing it away personally, nor would he permit one of his assistants to do so. As to the check, the bank people had not yet arrived at a decision, he said, but would probably know within an hour what they would do. My attorney then asked me where I was telephoning from, and I told him South Boston, which was the truth.
He then said to "remain there" and to call up again later. After assuring him that I would do so, I hung up the receiver and was off for another drive.
This time I did not pull up until I was a good six miles and in a direction where I believed one would be least expected to go. I then called up again and it was the same old story—the bank people asked for additional time, he said. Cutting the conversation short, I hung up the receiver, as I, too, wanted additional time that I might gather my wits together and decide on something more definite.
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