But Bart was completely “broken up” by what he had heard. Never had Frank seen him look so overcome by horror.
“Merry, Merry!” he gasped, “did you think I had stolen your money? Was that why you followed me?”
“No!” cried Frank. “That was not why I followed you, Hodge. I followed because I hoped to overtake you and bring you back—because I wished to save you from the consequences of your folly.”
“But you thought I had taken the money?”
“I hoped not.”
“Still, you thought I had! Oh, heavens! Frank, Frank, this is enough to break a fellow’s heart!”
He dropped down on the bed, burying his face in his hands and shaking all over.
Frank’s distress was great, but it was mingled with a feeling of triumph.
“Bart,” he said, speaking swiftly, “I could not account for the loss of the money. It was gone, and on the little table was your note, in which you said you had taken enough to meet your needs. What was I to think? It was your handwriting—I knew that. How could I account for the disappearance of the money?”
“How can you account for it now?” groaned Hodge. “Frank, are you sure it was gone—are you sure you made no mistake?”