"You are right. He is here. Mr. Lasar had stopped off at a near-by town on a personal matter. Can you describe the man whom you saw with him on the train?"
"As I remember him, he was slightly taller than Mr. Lasar, with red hair and a moustache of the same shade."
"Yes, that's Joe Comstock. No doubt about that," nodded Mr. Marquand. "You didn't hear them say what their plan was, then?"
"Not definitely. Only that they intended to rid themselves of you after having obtained possession of your plans for finding the treasure, or at least learning where it is hidden."
"Hm-m-m!"
Mr. Marquand sat thoughtfully silent for several minutes, the lines of his face growing tense and hard. The boys could see that he was exerting, a strong effort to control himself.
"You—you haven't told them your plans?" questioned Tad, in a subdued voice.
"No. I was going to do so to-night, if Comstock had arrived. He may get in yet."
"But you won't do so now—will you?"
"No! I thank you, boys," exclaimed their host, extending an impulsive hand to each at the same time.