“That is Bob Alden with him! How did he get in?”
“The boy from the freight train?” queried Raymond.
“Yes. We must catch them. They have most likely overheard what was said. Come on!”
Down the stairs went Frank and Bob, two steps at a time, with Casco and Raymond in close pursuit. The scar-faced man began to yell, but the hotel proprietor stopped him.
“Remember, the hotel is half full of guests,” he said. “We must overcome them without too much noise.”
Once in the lower hall, Bob and Frank turned toward the front door. It was locked, but the key was handy, and they had it open in a trice.
“Now which way?” questioned the young man when they were outside.
“It doesn’t make any difference. Come on!”
Away dashed Bob, with Frank directly behind him.
The way was dark, and the young photographer had scarcely proceeded a dozen steps when he tripped over some stones and went down.