“What makes you think that?” asked Phil.
“Oh, he is mean enough for anything.”
“If Nat did this I’ll—I’ll mash him!” cried Phil, with energy.
“Can’t you find out?” asked Roger.
“I’ll try—but most likely the fellow who did it took care to cover up his tracks. Sparr didn’t know where the messages came from.” 147
On and on rolled the carryall, until the lights of Rockville appeared in the distance. By this time all of the students were decidedly hungry. They rolled up to the little hotel and those with horns gave a couple of shrill blasts.
This time there was a warm welcome by the host. He came out, bowing and smiling.
“Did the best I could for you, on such short notice,” he said, as they entered. “Next time, if you’ll only give me a little more time––”
“That’s all right, let’s have what you’ve got,” cried Buster. He was hungry enough to eat anything.
They were ushered into what was usually the private dining-room of the little hostelry. The table had been spread out and was tastefully decorated with paper chrysanthemums, made by the hotel man’s daughter. A parlor-lamp and several others shed light on the scene.