“I will fix it so that you will be put to work on the drive in the morning,” he said. “And you know what to do. If they say enough to betray themselves, write it down and come to me with it. I’ll do the rest.”
The dumb fellow nodded emphatically. The dark eyes were full of a keen intelligence as he looked at the Yale man.
“Well, I think that’s about all we’ve got to say to-night,” the latter remarked, after a thoughtful pause. “It’s pretty late, and you’d better be getting home.”
Still the other hesitated, and a flush slowly mounted into his tanned face. Then he took the paper and wrote two words on it.
“I’m sorry.”
Merriwell smiled a little.
“Oh, that’s all right,” he said quietly. “You thought you were doing the right thing.”
He opened the door and stepped out into the hall, the fellow following him. They went down the narrow flight of stairs to the door which opened onto the drive—a door that Dick found had been left unlocked. With a brief gesture of farewell, the dumb man vanished into the darkness. Merriwell turned the key and came back to his room, a look of satisfaction on his face.