But this was not intended to be an Indian salutation. Lanky was deeply interested, and wanted to know.
“I was right,” said Frank.
There was no exultant strain to his voice such as one might expect. Truth to tell, he felt only indignation and disgust because of the fact that any fellow who had the home training Lef Seller enjoyed should descend so low as to endeavor to ruin a companion’s reputation.
“Then soak him, pard! Show the measly skunk no mercy! He ought to be kicked out of Columbia, and that’s the truth!” gritted the other.
Lanky knew his chum’s tenderness of heart, and was afraid that Frank might be too easy with the culprit.
“Don’t forget what you promised me when I let you in on this!”
“Oh! yes, you tied my hands good and hard, so that I couldn’t let out even one measly little squawk. But my word is as good as my bond. Have it your own way, but I certainly hope you’ll finish that fellow’s loping so that he’ll never try any more of his funny business on you again,” grumbled Lanky.
“That would be almost too good,” laughed Frank; “and now, while I go in the lunch room will you manage to tell Lef that some one wants to see him there?”
“Sure I will,” grinned the other.
“And try to keep the boys out for a little while, will you, Lanky?”