“I’d like to know how,” growled Bully.
“You will, as soon as you get your car out. I want you to do an errand over at Orton, and I guess there won’t be any chance to go wrong this time. Get ready, and when the car’s out come to my room.”
And Colonel Carson made his exit, whistling softly to himself.
CHAPTER XX.
LURED AWAY.
“No use—I can’t sleep a morning like this!”
Chip Merriwell jumped out of bed and went to the window. It was early Sunday morning, and from the room at the hotel which he and Clancy occupied he had a clear view of the village green, the streets leading on down toward the river, and the green opposite slope of the valley beyond.
The air was heavy with apple blossoms, warm with spring richness, and Frank drank it in eagerly. From somewhere about the place he heard the pur of a motor car, but could see nothing of the machine.
“I don’t believe I can stay indoors,” he sighed softly, and turned to where his clothes lay on a chair.
Indeed, the morning was a perfect one. The little town lay still, deserted, apparently empty of all life. Yet its streets were clothed with freshness, and its feathery-leaved trees were green with new spring life. From the fruit orchards that hedged Carsonville there drifted renewed sweetness on every breeze.