“Oh, well, it doesn’t matter,” spoke Sandow, with an air of studied indifference. “The message was of no importance. It was about some property I own, and which is in litigation. Mr. Cutler is my lawyer. It’s only a small matter.” Tom wondered if it was, why Mr. Sandow should seem so frightened over something, for frightened the man certainly was. “I don’t suppose you reported what you heard to any one; did you?” asked Sandow eagerly. “No, sir,” replied Tom quickly. “It is against orders to speak of the firm’s business outside.” “That’s right, though in this case it doesn’t make any difference. It was of small importance. The affair is closed up now. It was of no importance whatever.” And Sandow passed on. “Well, if it wasn’t,” thought Tom, who had his own ideas on the subject, “you’re taking a great deal of trouble to impress that fact on me.” Wondering more than ever what sort of a game Sandow was playing, Tom left the lobby of the hotel, and started toward home. CHAPTER XV MR. CUTLER’S VISITOR “Well, Tom,” asked Mr. Keen, the next morning, “did you deliver the papers?” “Yes, sir, and Mr. Norris said he would call on you this afternoon.” “Very good; I’ll be here. Now get me the surrogate’s office, in the court house.” Tom had on a small card, the numbers of the places most frequently called up by the members of the firm, in order to save the time of looking in the telephone book, and he soon had the connection for Mr. Keen. As our hero was going home that afternoon Mr. Keen gave him a message to deliver to a client who lived in the suburbs, across the Charles River. “It is quite important,” said the lawyer, “or I would not ask you to spend your own time delivering it.” “I don’t mind,” replied Tom. “Well, I am sure I appreciate that. Since you are so good-natured about it I think I will ask you to do a little more. This concerns a suit which is to be tried to-morrow. I must have an answer from this gentleman, and he has no telephone. Will you go out there, and bring back the answer?” “Yes, sir.” “Bring it here to the office,” went on Mr. Keen. “I am going to work here quite late, to-night, and, if I should not be in when you get here, leave the answer on my desk, for I may be out to supper.” “I think I can be back here by eight, or, at the most, nine o’clock,” spoke Tom. “That will do very nicely. I expect to be up until nearly midnight, getting the papers in shape for the trial to-morrow. You had better start now, as it is quite a ride out there.” With a bundle of papers in his pocket Tom started off. He had sent word to his mother, by telephoning to a drug store near his house, that he would not be home until late. Tom rather enjoyed the trolley ride, for it was in a section he had seldom visited. “I hope I find a restaurant out here,” he remarked to himself as the trolley rumbled along. “I’ll be mighty hungry by the time I get back.”