Then, after a little, he spoke aloud:
“You may be right, Merriwell—I hope you are. Nothing could give me greater satisfaction than to know you had made no mistake. That’s all I can say.”
“Then we will say no more about her. Do you understand? Do not speak to me again of her, Starbright!”
Inza and her mysterious escort had disappeared along the street as Frank and Dick turned to leave the corner. Then Merry stooped and picked up something lying on the sidewalk.
It proved to be a peculiar little black stick, about five inches long, having strange characters, like hieroglyphics, upon it.
“What is it?” asked Dick.
“Hanged if I know!” confessed Merry, gazing at it curiously. “It’s a queer thing, anyhow.”
“Those characters look like Chinese writing,” said Starbright.
“Something,” nodded Frank.
They gazed with increasing curiosity at the little black stick.