Love for Sale

able to help me.”
    He explained that he was an attorney who had a client who had received a telegram saying that her husband, who was working on the dam, had died. Further, the name was misspelled. To whom should he speak to arrange to mail a picture of the real person?
    The secretary said, “Would you spell the name for me correctly, then spell it the way the telegram said? Speak loudly and slowly so I get it down properly.”
    He did so and she then said, “I’ll look in the files for both names. It may take me a while. Would you mind calling back in two hours? Mr. Crowe doesn’t allow anyone but himself to place long-distance calls. They cut into his budget.“
    “I understand that. And thanks for your help. I’ll speak to you later. Thank you very much.”
    He considered using the two hours to fill in Mrs. Towerton as to what he was doing, but thought better of it. He really didn’t know anything positive yet and didn’t want to get her hopes up. He felt fairly certain her husband, illiterate and not speaking well because of his injury, had simply been misunderstood when he gave his name. Otherwise, how would they have had his and not some other man’s address? Mary Towerton had surely considered this but had said nothing about it. To keep her faint hopes intact, he hadn’t mentioned it either.
    Jack Summer, unknown to him, was watching his office to see where Mr. Prinney would go next. Jack felt guilty about this bit of sneakiness. He understood why Mr. Prinney wouldn’t talk about why he’d asked for the information, but Jack cared a great deal about Mary Towerton.
    When he realized he’d waited an hour and a half lurking and the attorney hadn’t left his office, he gave up.
    When the two hours were almost up, Elgin Prinney once again called the local operator. He asked if she would put him in touch with the number he’d called earlier and let him know when she was through.
    The same woman answered. “Oh, Mr. Prinney. You’re very prompt. I think I have the name and number of the man you need to contact. He’s in charge of the single men’s dormitories. I contacted him and explained your problem, but you should get in touch with him yourself so he understands exactly what you need. Here’s the information....”
    Two expensive long-distance calls, Mr. Prinney thought, and now he had to make a third one. Mr. Prinney wrote the information down.
    It took another two hours to get the man. Mr. Prinney explained the whole story again.
    “I want to send you a picture of the real Tower-ton. It was taken before he broke his nose and acquired a serious scar on his lip that apparently made it difficult to understand his speech. If you could show it around to the men who might have known him or recognize him yourself, I could confirm to my client whether she’s wife or widow. She’ll need to receive a death certificate, if it’s the right man. I presume whoever he is has already been buried out there.“
    “Yes, he’s buried. We can disinter him if she wants to bury him at home.“
    “She can’t afford to do that,“ Mr. Prinney said.
    “I see what the problem is with the spelling of his name. Many of the men here are illiterate. We take down their names the best we can. If they’re married and don’t have a wife along, we get her address. Send along your picture and I’ll write and tell you what I can find out.”
    Mr. Prinney thanked him profusely, hoping it would hurry along the process.
    Friday morning while Jack was speaking with Mr. Prinney, Lily was asking Mrs. Tarkington if she’d heard from Miss Langston.
    “I haven’t yet. I wrote to her at the home address I had for her the very day she left, asking her to let me know how she was getting along. Most of our teachers are spinsters and if anything happened to them, I’d have to know how to reach their families, you see? I imagine Miss Langston isn’t yet well enough to write and report how she’s doing. Perhaps she’ll just turn up one day.“ She paused, then asked, “Are you or your brother tired of teaching?“
    “No, I’m enjoying it and so is Robert. I’m just wondering how long we’re likely to be doing it. I fear if and when winter hits us hard, we may not be able to get up and down the hill in the car. And if we have a heavy snow, we might have to find some snowshoes,“ Lily said with a smile.
    Later that same morning, Mrs. Tarkington motioned Lily to come out of the room. She showed her an envelope. “My