"Yes, yes! Read the message!" cried Dick, and all three boys listened closely while Dick held the receiver.
"He says: 'No news of Anderson Rover. Better come on and investigate.'"
"Is that all?"
"Yes." And the operator repeated the message. "I'll mail the sheet to you," he added.
"All right, much obliged." Dick turned to his brothers. "Shall I send word back that we are coming?" he questioned.
"Yes."
"Take this message down, Mr. Barnes," went on Dick, and dictated what he wished to say. "I'll settle next time I see you," he added, and hung up the receiver.
The uncle and the aunt of the boys wished to know the news, if such it can be called, and the lads told them. At once Mrs. Rover burst into tears.
"I am sure something has befallen Anderson!" she sobbed. "Oh, what shall we do, Randolph?"
"I—I think I had better go to New York and—er—make some—er—inquiries," answered her husband, somewhat helplessly, for a visit to the teeming metropolis always appalled him.
