Bill Toleman stalked in behind Dunc.
“I reported last night, Lynch,” he said. “Let them know you were still on earth.”
“And that soothed our disturbed spirits a great deal,” said Jim Poland, finding a chair and gracefully seating himself.
“’Sst!” hissed Mel Daggett, who was the last to enter. “Don’t you know the door’s open? Don’t talk so loud, you fellows.”
Softly and silently closing and latching the door, Mel waddled to the morris chair and squatted on the broad arm of it.
Lynch, hands resting on hips, squared himself in front of Daggett.
“I wish you’d tell me something, Mel,” he said, with an air of unmistakable accusation.
“Will if I can,” whispered Mel.
“How did the Merriwell bunch know where to find us last night?”
Daggett’s froglike mug took on an expression of puzzled blankness.