He pointed up the street and all looked in that direction. It was the lank youth sure enough, but so haggard, ragged and dirty that they scarcely recognized him. He did not see them until he was close at hand and then he started and flushed guiltily.
“Hockley, what does this mean?” demanded Professor Strong, but his voice was not particularly harsh, for he saw that the big youth had suffered.
“Oh, I’m so glad to get back,” said the truant, when he could speak. “I’m nearly dead, sir.”
“Where have you been?”
“It’s all that Captain Sudlip’s fault, sir. He got me in a regular box,” whined Hockley. Then he looked at Sam and Darry. “I thought he—he carried you off, too.”
“He didn’t carry us off. We tried to follow you, after you wrote that you were in trouble and wanted us to come.”
“I didn’t write any such note.”
“You didn’t!” burst out Sam and Darry, simultaneously.
“No, I didn’t. I wrote a note for Captain Sudlip, but it wasn’t that.”
“What was it?”