Dick shrugged his shoulders as he turned away from the desk.
“Give it up, Brad,” he said carelessly. “I don’t know that I care very much. I want to write a letter to Frank. Will you wait for me, or join Tommy and Bouncer upstairs?”
The big Texan yawned.
“Sure, I’ll wait,” he said. “Might as well scrawl off a note myself, since I’ve got the chance.”
They went into the writing room, and each sat down at a small table. Taking a sheet of paper from the rack, Dick wrote rapidly for several minutes. He was telling Frank what they had been doing for the past few days, and, when he had finished that, he stopped to think out their itinerary for the next week.
“Let’s see,” he murmured meditatively. “We’ll stay here over Sunday, and start Monday morning. By Monday night we ought to be in——”
He stopped, his eyes fixed curiously on the oblong, white blotter which lay before him.
“That’s funny,” he said slowly.
The Texan looked up from his letter.
“What is?”