With this Frank hung up the receiver without giving Bruce any further chance to ask questions.
His object in not explaining what he was about was to prevent any of the contestants from worrying. He was pretty sure that Higgins would not speak of his own adventure, and he did not care to have even cool-headed Browning suspect that there was anything so serious in the wind as a deliberate plot to disable Yale athletes.
It seemed to Frank as if he had never been in so serious a situation. There had been times in his travels when one adventure or another had brought him in danger of his life, but at such times his mind was usually easy; now he was oppressed by responsibility and anxiety for others.
The credit of Yale depended upon the good showing at the intercollegiate games; whether they won or lost was not so much of consequence as that the Yale crowd should do their best.
As one of the managers, Frank felt responsible for the good condition of every man in the party.
He set out down Sixth Avenue looking to right and left and glancing in at the door of every saloon he passed.
Near the juncture of Sixth Avenue and Broadway are a number of places where gamblers resort, and it was in one of these that Frank half suspected and feared to find Mellor.
Business was lively in all these places at this hour. Men of all conditions were at the bar discussing all manner of sporting events.
Once in a while, as Frank made his way through the crowded barrooms, he overheard some remark about the coming college games, but it did not seem as if the professional sports took very much interest in them, and nothing occurred to give him any clew as to Mellor's whereabouts.
He continued on down the avenue, running through every place he came across, until he got as far as Twenty-third Street. There he paused, feeling rather discouraged.