“Why, this is not the night,” Frank said, surprised.
“The date on the drawings was that of to-morrow, Saturday,” said Glen. “This is Friday. Of course you know what you are doing, but I wouldn’t take any chances on flushing the game.”
“What is it all about?” demanded Tony Chester. “There seems to be something in the air to-night. Father went away in a grouch and told me to remain with you boys, and Gastong is wandering about the city in a half-distracted manner. If you go to Gatun may I go with you?”
Ned pondered a moment before replying. There was in his mind the thought that this boy might work a miracle for his father. He saw one chance for saving Chester from the results of his connection with the plotters, and resolved to take it, risky to his plans though it was.
“No,” he said, in a moment, “you are to go to your camp with a note for your father. After you deliver the note, you are to come back here and remain until you hear from me. If your father comes with you, so much the better.”
“Will he tell me what is in the note—why he comes back to the city?”
“I don’t think so,” was the reply. “If he does come, tell him to remain close to a ’phone, here, for I may want to talk with him.”
“I can’t understand what all this mystery is about,” Tony exclaimed.
“When did you see Gastong last?” asked Ned.
“Oh, about half an hour ago. He was in the hotel then, flying around like a hen minus her head. He asked for you, and said he’d be in the buffet when you came.”