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Fitzhugh, Percy Keese, 1876-1950

"Roy Blakely, Pathfinder"

"
So at half-past nine, Westy and I started down the road.
"Give her our best wishes," Harry called after us.
It was awful dark and we could hardly see our way going along the road. A
couple of times I went stumbling into the ditch. But, anyway, all the
while I kept thinking about Marjorie and how it would look at home with all
those people there and lots of presents and things.
"I'm mighty glad Harry thought about that," I said.
Westy said, "Jiminies, it will be great. Just when they're all sitting down
around the table, all of a sudden the 'phone will ring-"
"Yop," I said, "and Marjorie will answer it, because she always answers the
'phone, on account of Charlie Wentworth all the time calling her up. He's
in Philadelphia. That's what makes the 'phone service so bad, because he
keeps all the operators busy. Believe me, they ought to have a private
wire. Anyway, that's what my father says."
"I bet you won't be able to get her," Westy said.
"There you go," I told him; "Calamity Jane!"
"To call her up, you'll have to call Central down," he said.
"I should worry," I told him.


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