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

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Vance felt his heart fluttering and throbbing; it was not easy for him to control his breathing, which now was loud and hoarse. A sense of exultation was growing in his bosom.

“So that is the chap Frank Merriwell trusts!” he thought. “That is the friend in whom he has so much confidence! Ha!”

Hodge was taking things out of the grip. He scarcely looked at them as he dumped them out. He was eager and in great haste.

Vance recognized the grip as being beyond a doubt the one Merriwell always carried. He had observed that Frank seemed to think a great deal of that plain leather bag. He remembered hearing Merriwell say once on a time that the grip was very valuable to him, even though it might not be worth much to anybody else.

Bart did not seem to be looking for any particular article in the grip, for he did not examine the things he dumped out so carelessly. Evidently he was after something that lay at the bottom.

What was it?

The spy choked down his heart, which seemed rising into his throat. The glitter in his eyes became exultant. His lips were drawn back from his teeth, and they quivered with a movement like the lips of a snarling dog that is watching a hated enemy.