“Romeo!”
“And the old soap man!”
The spy and his skinny horse had come into sight at the spot where the red roadster had disappeared. Getting out of the buggy in the mill yard, the driver unhitched his horse, then came toward the hotel, carrying in one hand his soap satchel and in the other a black leather traveling bag.
Scoop made a queer throat sound.
“It’s Gennor’s bag!” he cried.
Clutching a chair, my now crazy companion smashed down the door into the hall.
“Jerry,” he panted, his eyes shining, “our luck has changed. We still have a chance to recover the talking frog.” [[213]]