“That leads into the next room,” said Dick. “It’s locked.”
“Well, I think we’ll tut-tut-try this key on it,” whispered Jolliby, as he hurried toward the door.
His manner was so unusual that his companions watched him wonderingly. The key unlocked the door and Chip opened it a fraction, peering into the next room.
“All right,” he said, with satisfaction, as he pulled the door softly to, but did not close it entirely.
“Tut-tut-turn out that light, Dick. Come over here, everybody. Get close to this door and kuk-kuk-kuk-keep all-fired still. You’re gug-gug-going to hear something that’ll interest you.”
He checked their questions, and a few minutes later the quartette stood close by the door, silently waiting and listening.
Within three minutes some one entered the adjoining room. This person began to whistle, and Dick knew it was Brad Buckhart.
Less than three minutes after Brad entered that room, there came a knock on his door. On being invited to enter, the person who knocked cautiously opened the door and looked in.
It was Tom Fernald.
“Walk right in, Mr. Fernald,” invited the Texan. “You see I’m all alone here. I’m waiting for you. Thought you might wish to talk to me up here where there’s less danger of being observed or overheard.”