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

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“I’ll wager he didn’t take enough money to keep him a week!” came hoarsely from Frank’s lips. “He should have taken twenty-five dollars, at least, and it’s likely he hasn’t taken more than ten.”

He picked up his grip and quickly emptied it upon the bed. Then he soon removed the false bottom and looked into it.

Frank stood there, as if turned to stone. On his face was a look of mingled astonishment and pain.

“Gone!” he finally said, his voice cold, hard and metallic. “Every dollar gone—eight hundred and sixty dollars in all!”

Rat-tat-tat!—a knock on the door.

Before Frank could speak the door swung open, and Granville Garland, Douglas Dunton and Lester Vance entered.

“Mr. Merriwell,” cried Vance, “Dunton has heard something about Hodge!”

“Has he?” said Frank, with perfect coolness, as if nothing had happened to disturb him in the least.

“I have,” nodded Dunton, looking serious. “I heard that he was seen purchasing a ticket for St. Joseph.”

“Is it true he has gone?” asked Garland. “I could hardly believe it when Vance told me.”