His chums watched him take the letter from John and sign the book and then they too, began making their way toward shore. Frank dried his hands on his shirt, which was on top of his pile of clothes on the bank, and opened the envelope.
The letter must have been a short one, for he was only a few seconds in reading it. As he did so his chums could see a change come over his face.
“Bad news?” asked Bart sympathetically.
“No—yes—that is—I can’t tell you,” said Frank, speaking quickly. “I’ve got to hurry back home,” he added. “I’ll go on if you don’t mind, and not wait for you,” and he began to dress quickly.
“Aren’t you going back in the boat?” asked Ned.
“No, I think I’ll walk through the woods. I’ll take the short cut.”
“Anything we can do?” asked Bart.
“No—I wish I could tell you—but I can’t,” Frank replied. “I must send an answer at once.”
He thrust the letter into his trousers pocket and went on dressing himself. He completed his toilet in a hurry and walked off through the woods, taking the path the post-office messenger had used. The latter had departed as soon as he delivered the missive.
“Well, that’s a strange sort of letter Frank got,” commented Bart as he climbed out on the bank. “Hello!” he added. “He’s forgotten the envelope,” and he picked it up from the ground where Frank had dropped it.