Читать книгу Frank Merriwell's Prosperity; or, Toil Has Its Reward онлайн

30 страница из 61

Vance pricked up his ears. He knew nothing of the quarrel between Merriwell and Hodge, if quarrel it could be called, and still instinct told him that something was wrong.

“Wonder why he’s going to catch a train?” he speculated.

Hodge had risen, leaving what he had written on the table. He now picked up Frank Merriwell’s leather grip.

“It’s a good thing I know how to spring this lock,” said Hodge, “else I’d not be able to get out of Atchison unless I walked, and I’d do that before I would stay here now. I have cut clear from everybody now, and I’m going to go it alone in the future. If I go to the dogs who cares!”

The eyes of the spy beyond the transom began to glitter and he was in a flutter of excitement. Now he was certain that Hodge was up to something crooked, and he eagerly awaited developments.

Bart worked at the lock of the leather bag. It was some time before he succeeded in opening it, but succeed he did at last.

The man outside the door rose on his tiptoes and peered through the glass. In his excitement he nearly lost his balance, but he recovered without falling with a crash that would have alarmed the man he was watching.