The children knew the number of Daddy Morrison’s big office in the city, and both could telephone very nicely.  The phone booth was under the hall stairs and Brother knew no one in the house could hear him when he took down the receiver.

“Please give me 6587 Main,” he said politely, while Sister and Brownie sat down on the floor to wait and listen.

Dick was in his father’s office, and unless the person calling asked for Mr. Morrison, senior, the switchboard operator gave them Mr. Morrison, junior.  That was Dick, who was named for Daddy Morrison.

“Hello, hello!” came Dick’s voice over the wire in answer to Brother’s call.

“I want Daddy,” said Brother distinctly.

“Is that you, Brother?” asked Dick in surprise.  “Did Mother ask you to call him?  Is anything wrong at home?”

“No, only I want to speak to him,” said Brother impatiently.

“He’s busy—­if you are only trying to amuse yourself, I advise you to stop it,” answered Dick rather sharply.  “You know you are not supposed to use the ’phone, Brother.”

“I guess I can talk to my father,” asserted Brother indignantly.  “You tell him I want to speak to him, Dick Morrison!”

Dick apparently made the connection, for in another moment Brother heard his father’s voice.

“Yes, Son?” it said gently.  “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, Daddy!” Brother spoke rapidly, his words tumbling over each other.  “I never said ‘thank you’ to Ralph for the puppy dog!  An’ sometimes he doesn’t come home to supper, and I don’t see him till tomorrow morning.  I want to tell him how much I like Brownie, and I don’t know the name of the law school.  Will you tell me so I can ask ‘Central’ for the number and call Ralph up?”

There was a pause.  Daddy Morrison was apparently thinking.

“I’ll tell you, son,” he said presently.  “I do not believe Ralph’s school allows their pupils to be called from a class to answer the telephone, so you had better not try that plan.  But Ralph is coming to the office this noon to go to lunch with Dick.  You tell Mother that I said you were to be permitted to telephone the office at half-past twelve.  In that way you’ll catch Ralph here and can say what you want to him.  How will that do?”

“That’s fine, Daddy!” replied Brother gratefully.  “Thank you ever so much—­wait a minute, Daddy—­”

“I’m just saying the good-bye,” called Sister, who loved to telephone.

“Good-bye, youngsters,” said Daddy Morrison, laughing as he hung up the receiver.

“Well, for goodness’ sake, what are you two doing here?” demanded Louise, coming through the hall with something hidden in her apron.  “Who said you could telephone?  Whom did you call up?”

“Daddy,” answered Brother serenely.  “He said I could call the office again at half-past twelve.  What you got, Louise?”

“Secrets,” said Louise mysteriously.  “People with birthdays shouldn’t ask questions.”