“I saw your name at the top of this letter,” replied the boy, handing the missive back. Then, when the farmer was carefully stowing the letter away in his wallet, Tom quietly slipped a plug into the hole connecting with the ’phone in the room of Mr. Boise, and asked when the lawyer could see Mr. Kendall. “Send him in in five minutes,” came back the answer. By this time the farmer had buttoned his coat over his pocketbook, and he looked up at Tom. “Wa’al, when ye goin’ to do it?” he asked. “Do what?” “Ye said ye’d find out when the head lawyer would see me.” “So I did. He’ll see you in five minutes.” “Look a-here, young man!” exclaimed Mr. Kendall. “Don’t try none of them tricks. I’m sharp, even if I do come from the country.” “What tricks?” asked Tom innocently, for he was not aware that he had done anything out of the ordinary. “Why, you said you’d go see when the lawyer would see me. Now you say he’ll see me in five minutes. You may be one of them new-fangled mind-readers I’ve heard tell about, but I don’t believe it. I don’t take no stock in it. Now you go find out when the lawyer will see me. My time’s valuable, for I’ve got a lot of work to do, out at the farm.” “I did find out, Mr. Kendall. Mr. Boise will see you in five minutes.” “Hold on thar!” exclaimed the farmer. “You can’t fool me. I’ve watched you every minute, an’ you ain’t left your chair sence I come in. All you’ve been doin’ is play with them there cords. Now you git right up an’ find out when Mr. Boise will see me! I ain’t so green as I look.” “Oh, I see!” exclaimed Tom, comprehending. “You see, I telephoned to him.” “Telephoned to him? You can’t fool me that way. I know what a telephone is. We’ve got ’em out our way, an’ a bell rings when you telephone. Besides, there ain’t no telephone here, and who ever heard of telephonin’ from one room to another?” “But you see this is a private exchange switchboard,” explained Tom, and he told how it was possible to speak to a lawyer in the next room, without leaving his seat. He made it quite clear to the farmer. “Oh, I understand,” said Mr. Kendall. “I’m sorry I made such a fuss about it, ’specially when you ain’t well. Did you see a doctor about it?” “About what?” asked the boy, wondering what new notion the farmer had. “About your ear ache. I see you have to wear some instrument on yer head. I had a nephew once that had ear ache dreadful bad. We done everything for him, blew smoke into it, put bags of hot pepper in, but it didn’t do no good. Then I poured some hot sweet oil in, and that worked fine. Ever try it?” “But I have no ear ache.” “You ain’t? Then what ye got that contraption on yer head for?” “Oh, that’s the telephone receiver. I have it clamped over my ear so I will have both hands free to use on the plugs.” “Oh!” remarked Mr. Kendall. “I wondered what in the world it was for. Suthin’ like blinders on a hoss.”