“But surely,” expostulated Frank, “when we fail to return to the hotel, there’ll be a big uproar. You are a man of importance, and your business representative here as well as the hotel people will get the police on the case.”
“Very true,” said Mr. Temple, thoughtfully. “Yet this is evidently a well-organized gang that has captured us, and we might be hidden away forever in such a place as this without being found.”
“But you forget Inspector Burton,” said Frank. “When he hears of our disappearance, he will put two and two together and will realize that we have fallen into the hands of the man whose plans we thwarted—namely, this ‘Black George’.”
“Yes,” admitted Mr. Temple, “there is a little hope for us there. Yet Inspector Burton planned to leave for southern California tonight to watch Handby as well as try to locate the smugglers’ radio with Inventor Bender’s sound detector. He may not hear of our disappearance for some time.”
“But, Dad,” said Bob, “it’ll be in all the papers in a day or two. The news will be telegraphed to the
papers in southern California, and probably he will read it.”
“There is some hope of that, of course,” admitted his father.
For some time longer the discussion continued along this vein. Then Murphy again made his appearance, and put an end to it.
“You’re to write a note to the Palace,” he said, “telling the hotel people to cancel your rooms an’ give your baggage to bearer. Send a check, too, for your bill. An’ don’t write nothin’ phony. Tell ’em you’re goin’ for a sea voyage with a friend. That’ll fix it if there are any questions asked about you by friends you may have in the city. Here’s paper an’ pen,” he added, laying the articles on the table. “Git busy an’ write.”
“And if I refuse?” demanded Mr. Temple.