"What does he want? Whom does he want?"
"He wants Frank Roscoe," went on Jim, in drawling tones. "Wants to see him right away. Important business he said. That's all I know. I was to tell Frank if I saw him, or if not, any of you boys. I've done my part, and earned the quarter, I guess. Now don't bother me, I'm going to sleep," and Jim turned over on the log as if that was all there was to it.
"But what's it about? Why can't you tell us more?" asked Bart. Jim did not answer, and a snore seemed to indicate that he was slumbering.
"If he isn't the limit!" ejaculated Ned. "Come on, fellows. We'll see if we can find Frank and give him the message."
"Perhaps he was going to the judge's office," suggested Fenn.
"Well, we'll tell him what Jim said, anyhow," suggested Bart. "Frank can do as he likes then."
They hurried back to town, thinking they might overtake Frank before he reached Darewell, but he had evidently walked fast for they did not see him. As they were passing the post-office, Ned looked in, and caught sight of their chum.
"There's Frank," he said. Frank had just taken a letter from his uncle's box. He was reading it when the three chums entered, and he seemed surprised as they came up to him.
"Judge Benton wants to see you," spoke Ned. "Jim Morton went out to the swimming hole with a message, but you'd gone, so we came after you."
"Thanks," replied Frank, glancing up from his letter. "I was just going over there."