Dick quietly lowered the window.
“Let them in, Brad,” he said.
The Texan sprang away from the door and two men came plunging into the room as it fell. Behind them was a third, and behind him was Macklyn Morgan.
Dick faced them, his eyes flashing.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
“Where is Frank Merriwell?” questioned one of the officers.
“He is here! He is here!” asserted Morgan, in the doorway. “I know he is here!”
“You’re a whole lot wise,” sneered Buckhart. “You certain could have given old Solomon a few points! I admire you a great deal—not!”
“He is hiding somewhere in this room,” asserted Morgan, paying no attention to the Texan.
“If that is so, he may as well come out,” said the leading officer. “We will have him in a minute.”