Hodge was silent.
“Well, you have stumbled on a mystery,” nodded Frank, slowly. “What do you make of it?”
“I don’t know what to make of it, unless some friend or relative of Carson’s is confined in that room.”
“Why confined there?”
“You know as well as I do.”
Frank opened his lips to say something about the face he had seen at the window, but at that moment Carson himself came out onto the veranda, smoking his pipe. The rancher took a chair near, and they chatted away as twilight and darkness came on.
“How are you getting along on your play, Mr. Merriwell?” asked the man.
“Very well.” answered Frank. “You know it is a drama of college life—life at Yale?”
“No, I didn’t know about that.”
“It is. Just now I am puzzled most to find a name for it.”