“And you think Mr. Dare”—
“I don’t think, I know he’s at the bottom of it. He’s got nerves of iron and a forehead of brass, that fellow! And that’s not the worst of it, Frank. This thing giving way lets me in for a number of others; it means simple ruin if it isn’t put a stop to.”
Frank whistled thoughtfully.
“What are you going to do about it?” he asked.
“If these—people weren’t in the house, I’d be off on the next train; but it would never do to show my hand like that. There’s the midnight express, though; I shall make that, I think; and, in the mean time, I want you to wire Fletcher for me. Take it yourself to the office; and listen that it is sent correctly; for it must be in cipher, and the mistake of a letter would be fatal. I’ll make excuses for you in the parlor; what shall I say?”
Frank thought for a moment. “Rumors of a riot downtown,” he said then, “and I’ve gone to look into it. He may swallow that.”
“It may be,” replied his father, “that he and all of us will be obliged to swallow it. But there is no time to be lost.”
Frank only stopped to change his evening coat for less conspicuous raiment, then hurried through the garden to a side gate that opened on what was called River Street, on which a telegraph office was situated at no great distance. Hurrying along this at the top of his speed, he suddenly ran full into the arms of a man who was running rapidly in the other direction.
“Oh! it’s you, is it?” said Fritz Rolf, who, as the stronger and less taken by surprise, was the first to recover himself; “and just what I might have expected! Running away like a coward, and leaving your father and sister in danger. A pretty fellow you are!”
“I don’t know what you mean by danger,” replied Frank impatiently; “but I’ve no time to quarrel just now.”