“Search me,” he returned airily. “Haven’t seen him since we split up.”
There was a little furrow of anxiety on Dick’s brow. He was thinking of McCormick’s very evident worry lest Jellison be left alone in the house. The fellow had come with them that morning quite of his own accord, but that did not prevent his hurrying back there as soon as he could do so without attracting attention. What had Mac to fear from him, anyway? Was it possible that the man knew what lay under the hearth?
As Dick puzzled over the problem, all his doubts and fears and perplexities returned in full force, and did not add in the least to his pleasure in their little outing.
CHAPTER XIII
NOT A MOMENT TOO SOON.
As Archie McCormick struck out along the forest path which led to Lysander Cobmore’s farm he was not especially pleased to have Percy Joblots tagging along behind. He would much rather have been alone. There was so much to think of and plan out that he would have liked to be able to give his whole mind to it instead of having to think of this little whipper-snapper who, from the first, seemed to have considerable difficulty in keeping up with the Yale man’s long stride.
“You mutht be in an awful hurry,” he panted, after they had gone about half a mile.
“I am,” snapped McCormick, without looking back.
There was silence for a few moments, broken only by the labored breathing of Percy.
“Grathiouth thaketh!” he gasped presently. “I’m motht dead. Couldn’t you walk a little thlower for jutlit a few minuteth?”