He turned away, and, with a biting laugh, Hodge disappeared, ascending the stairs.
Frank started after Noon, quickly overtaking him.
“I want to speak with you,” he said, quietly.
Noon started and turned pale. He was tying a handkerchief about his injured hand.
“What do you want?” he huskily asked.
“Hold on a minute, and I will tell you.”
“I don’t want to stop here,” said Ned, looking around. “I have fallen and torn my trousers, besides hurting my hand here. If you wish to talk to me, you know where to find my room.”
“I am not going up to your room,” said Frank, quietly; “and I am going to talk to you now. What I have to say will not detain you long.”
“All right, go ahead,” snapped Ned, scowling.
“I happened to see you when you took your tumble,” said Frank, still speaking smoothly and serenely. “I know all about it, for I overheard by accident some of the conversation between you and Hodge.”