But Bart deliberately closed the door behind him. There was a key in the lock. This key Hodge turned, after which he removed it, and quietly put it into his pocket.
“What the deuce are you doing?” cried Defarge, who was now on his feet.
Bart advanced, his eyes fixed on those of Bertrand.
“I’ve called to see you,” said Frank Merriwell’s bosom friend, in a peculiar tone of voice.
“You locked that door?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“So it would not blow open,” answered Hodge, in the same queer way.
“Blow open! Why, there’s no danger of that! Are you crazy?”
“I don’t think so, but I’m mad.”