Shortly after Hagan left, Felipe heard the door of old Spooner's room open and close, following which there was a faltering, shuffling step on the stairs and the thump, thump, thump of a cane, growing fainter until it could be heard no longer.
"The old man has gone out to beg," thought Jalisco.
After leaving the house, old Spooner faltered along the street, turned several corners, and finally arrived at another house, which he entered.
Ascending one flight of stairs, he unlocked a door and disappeared into a hall room, closing and locking the door behind him.
Fully thirty minutes passed before that door was unlocked and opened again.
Out of that room stepped a tall, straight, clear-eyed, manly looking youth, who bore not the remotest resemblance to the tottering old man who had entered.
This youth ran down the stairs, left the house, and turned westward, swinging away with long strides.
"Merriwell," he muttered, as he walked, "I almost believe you could have been a successful detective had you chosen that profession."
Some time later he arrived at a Broadway hotel and found assembled in a suite of rooms several persons, who greeted his appearance with exclamations of great satisfaction.
"We were getting worried about you, Frank," declared Inza, hurrying to meet him and giving him both her hands. "We had almost decided that something serious had happened to you."