The club-room was deserted now, as everybody seemed out to take part in the gay time that night. Roland knew there was little danger that he would be disturbed, for it was not probable that any Yale man would care to play cards on such a night.
The place had been lighted by ordinary kerosene-lamps, and Roland had one of these burning in short order. Then he set to work to open the envelope. At first his hands trembled, which caused him to stop and wait for his nerves to become steadier. He took a silver flask from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, and drank from it.
“There!” he said; “that will fix me.”
Slowly and cautiously he worked with his knife, removing the seal from the envelope. When this was done he found some trouble in opening the flap without leaving a trace, but the task was accomplished at last.
“Now!” he exclaimed, his face flushed and his eyes gleaming, “we’ll see what this great message is all about!”
From the envelope he took several sheets of parchmentlike paper, which were covered with writing. Then, by the light of the lamp, he settled himself to read the message that had never been intended for other eyes than those of Frank Merriwell.
As Packard read he showed signs of surprise. At first he whistled softly, then he uttered an exclamation, and at last he exclaimed aloud:
“Well, by Jove! this is interesting!”
When he had finished reading, he started up, exclaiming:
“Frank Merriwell’s fate is in my hands! Almighty goodness! What a ten-strike! With the aid of this I can turn him out into the world a pauper! Roland Packard, this is the greatest piece of work you ever did. Five hundred dollars! Why, this is worth five million dollars!”