The men swore and went out grumbling. Suddenly Shirley knew her time had come to do something. Stepping quickly to the door she scanned the room carefully to make sure they were gone, then closing her own door she took up the telephone on her desk and called up the Graham number. She did not know just what she meant to say, nor what she would do if Sidney Graham were not in the office,--and it was hardly probable he would be there yet if he had only arrived home the day before. He would be likely to take a day off before getting back to work. Her throbbing heart beat out these questions to her brain while she waited for the number. Would she dare to ask for Mr. Walter Graham? And if she did, what would she say to him? How explain? He did not know her, and probably never heard of her. He might think her crazy. Then there was always the possibility that there was some mistake--and yet it seemed a coincidence that two men of the same name should both be going West at that time. It must be these Grahams that the plot was against. But how explain enough over the phone to do any good? Of course she must give them a copy of what she had taken down in shorthand, but first she must stop the signing of those papers, whatever they were, at all costs. Then all at once, into the midst of her whirling confusion of thoughts, came a voice at the other end of the phone, "Hello!" and her frantic senses realized that it was a familiar one. "Oh, is this,--this _is_ Mr. Sidney Graham, isn't it? This is Shirley Hollister." There was a catch in her voice that sounded almost like a sob as she drew in her breath with relief to know that he was there, and his answer came in swift alarm: "Yes? Is there anything the matter, Miss Shirley? You are not ill, are you?" There was a sharp note of anxiety in the young man's voice, and even in her excitement it made Shirley's heart leap to hear it. "No, there is nothing the matter with me," she said, trying to steady her voice, "but something has happened that I think you ought to know at _once_. I don't know whether I ought to tell it over the phone. I'm not sure but I may be overheard." "I will come to you immediately. Where can I find you?" Her heart leaped again at his willingness to trust her and to obey her call. "In Mr. Barnard's private office. If you ask for me they will let you come right in. There is one thing more. If there is anything important your father was to decide this morning, could you get him to wait till you return, or till you phone him?" There was a second's hesitation, and the reply was politely puzzled but courteous: "He is not in the office at present and will not be for an hour." "Oh, I'm so glad! Then _please hurry_!" "I will get there as soon as I can," and the phone clicked into place.