“I don’t like that fellow,” replied Charley. “He was in our office to-day, buying some stocks, and he called me down because I didn’t get his number quick enough for him. I didn’t dare say anything, ’cause the boss was standing right there, but I took my own time making the connection for him.” “Who did he call up?” asked Tom. “Why, that fellow you were telling me about--Mr. Leeth. But I couldn’t hear what he said, as I had to take care of a lot of calls from customers then. We have five trunk lines on our switchboard. How many have you?” “Only three. Say, do you suppose there’s any truth in what you told me, about Sandow wanting to get hold of Dr. Spidderkins’ money?” “Shouldn’t wonder,” answered Charley easily. “You could take most anything you wanted away from Doc. Spidderkins now, and he wouldn’t know it, if you gave him a book to look at. He’s daffy on books, every one says.” “But he’s a very fine old gentleman.” “You bet he is. Better that Barton Sandow. I wish I had a chance to call Sandow down, for being so fresh with me,” added Charley, for the matter of the telephone call seemed to rankle in his mind. “He called me a mean name, once,” said Tom, telling of the day when he had gone into Sandow’s office, to look for work. That afternoon, just before closing time, Mr. Boise, the head of the law firm, came out to the switchboard. “How are you getting on?” he asked Tom, pleasantly. “Pretty well, sir.” “That’s good. I think you’ll learn to be quite expert in time. I want you to do a little errand for me on your way home,” he added, and Tom saw that he had a bundle of papers in his hand. “Do you know where Dr. Spidderkins lives?” “Why, yes,” replied Tom, wondering what was coming. “That’s good. Then you’re acquainted in the Back Bay section?” “Not very well, but I carried books to the doctor’s house several times, when I worked for Mr. Townsend.” “Oh, yes, I had forgotten about that. Well, I wish you would take these papers to him, and tell him that I have attended to all his requests. The land matters are all in good shape now, and the estate books are all balanced. Can you remember that, or shall I write a note?” “Oh, I can remember it. Are you his lawyers?” “Yes; we do considerable business for him.” “A chum of mine--Charley Grove, whom Dr. Spidderkins used to attend--says the doctor is quite rich,” went on Tom, thinking this a good chance to get some more information. “Yes; he is quite wealthy,” said Mr. Boise. “His estate is a large one. Most of it came to him through his father, and his brother left him some when he died. That, together with the doctor’s own property, makes him very well-to-do. But he is so forgetful that we have to make memoranda of everything for him.” “I’ve had some experience with his short memory,” remarked Tom, smiling at the recollection.