There was nothing to Zapps. He would go up to Mrs.
Arty's and now--he was going to find Morton. Next morning,
marveling at himself for not having done this easy task before,
he telephoned to the Pennsylvania Railroad offices, asked for
Morton, and in one-half minute heard:
"Yes? This is Harry Morton."
"Hullo, Mr. Morton! I'll just bet you can't guess who this is."
"I guess you've got me."
"Well, who do you think it--"
"Jack?"
"Hunka."
"Uncle Henry?"
"Nope." Mr. Wrenn felt lonely at finding himself so completely
outside Morton's own world that he was not thought of.
He hastened to claim a part in that world:
"Say, Mr. Morton, I wonder if you've ever heard of a cattle-boat
called the _Merian?_"
"I--Say! Is this Bill Wrenn?"
"Yes."
"Well, well, well! Where areyou? When'd you get back?"
"Oh, I been back quite a little while, Morty. Tried to get hold
of you--almost called up couple of times. I'm in my
office--Souvenir Company--now. Back on the old job. Say, I'd
like to see you.
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