"You will remember that I promised to surrender those notes of yours upon certain conditions. Those conditions now can never be met, and it becomes necessary for us to make other arrangements. You will meet me with a horse and buggy at Freeman Station tomorrow night, ten-thirty. Wait for me at the crossroads south of the depot. If anyone learns of our meeting it will be all up with you."
Freeman Station was a little cluster of houses near the great hay farms twelve miles from Boyd City, and the drive was not one to be made with pleasure; but there was no help for it, and about dusk Frank set out. It had been raining steadily for several days and the mud was hub deep, while in many places the road was under water. Once he was obliged to get out, and by the flickering light of his lantern, to pick his way around a dangerous washout. Several times he was on the point of giving up and turning back, but thoughts of Whitley's anger drove him on, and he at last reached the place, several minutes after the train had passed on its way across the dark prairie. As he stopped at the corner, Whitley appeared by the side of the buggy, and clambered in without a word. Taking the lines from Frank, he lashed the tired horse with the whip and they plunged forward into the night.
Once or twice Frank tried to open a conversation with his companion, but received such short replies that he gave up and shrank back in the corner of the seat in miserable silence.
After nearly an hour, Whitley brought the horse to a standstill, and jumping out of the buggy, began to unhitch. Against the dark sky, Frank could see the shadowy outlines of a house and barn.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"At my place, nine miles south of town," Whitley answered. "Help me put up the horse, can't you?"
Frank obeyed.
"No, don't take the harness off," said Jim again; "you'll want him before long." And then he led the way to the house.
Taking a key from its hiding place beneath one corner of the step, he unlocked the door and entered; and while Frank stood shivering with the cold and wet, found a lamp and made a light. The room where they stood was well carpeted and furnished, and upon the table were the remains of a meal, together with empty bottles and glasses, and lying on the chair was a woman's glove.
Frank looked around curiously. He had heard rumors of Whitley's place in the country, but this was his first visit.