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

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“Yes, sir.”

“You don’t mean——”

“He has settled his bill and departed.”

“Impossible!” cried Frank, in great consternation.

The clerk lifted his eyebrows, but said nothing.

“I beg your pardon,” said Merry, quickly. “I did not mean to contradict your statement, but it does not seem possible for me to believe it. Will you give me the particulars?”

“There are no particulars, save that he asked for his bill, paid it, took the key to your room to get something he said he had in there, came down very soon with his grip and coat, and left.”

It was a rare thing for Frank Merriwell to be dazed, but he seemed so just then.

A little distance away stood Lester Vance, a look of intense satisfaction and triumph on his face.

“Bart has gone crazy!” thought Frank, his lips being pressed together. “He’ll be sorry for this. Unless I can stop him, there is no telling what may become of him. I’ll not be likely to see him again for a long time, and he is in such a reckless mood now that it will be dangerous for him to go by himself.”