"Hello, Frank!" came a voice from the stairs. "Is that yeou? What in thunder's the matter?"
It was Ephraim Gallup!
"Look out, Ephraim!" warned Merriwell. "Enemies here! Danger!"
Tramp, tramp, the Vermonter's heavy feet sounded on the stairs.
Then there was a rush, and a dark form swept down upon him, struck him, knocked him rolling and bumping to the foot of the stairs.
"Waal, darn—my—pun—ugh!—kins!" came from the Yankee youth in jolts and bursts.
Over him went the dark figure, closely followed by another.
"Hold on a minute," invited Ephraim. "Whut's your gol darn rush?"
But they did not stop. The door near the foot of the stairs was torn open, and both figures shot out of the building.
Gallup gathered himself up.