Louise, nearest the door, had the presence of mind to open it. A
bellboy stood there with a telegram on a tray.
"Telegram for Mr. Joseph Peabody," he announced impassively, his
alert eyes darting about the room from which such angry voices had
been coming for the last quarter of an hour.
"All right--give it here." The farmer snatched the yellow envelope
and shut the door in the boy's face without making a motion to tip him.
His back against the door, to prevent Bob's escape, Joseph Peabody
slit the envelope and read the message. The others saw his jaw drop
and a slow, painful flush creep over his face and neck.
"I'm called back to Bramble Farm right away," he mumbled, refusing
to meet their gaze. "Being hurried, and having so much to tend to,
I'm willing to drop the matter of having you arrested, Bob. But let
this be a lesson to you, to hoe a straight row."
Bob stared at the man stupidly, frankly bewildered. But Betty's
quick wit solved the sudden change of front. She had seen how quickly
Peabody folded up the telegram when he had read it.
"Isn't that a message from Mrs. Peabody?" she demanded crisply. "And
doesn't she say she's found the deed? Where was it--in one of your
coat pockets?"
The farmer was taken by surprise, and the truth was shocked out of
him.
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