By turns they examined the couch, the three shaking their heads mournfully at the author of the mischief, until, when the joke had been carried far enough, they turned their attention to Tom, and assisted him in his rather limited preparations for the trip. They escorted him to the station shortly before train time, their prayer for a special dispensation in regard to being out late, having been granted.
“Don’t forget to wire as soon as you have any news,” begged Sid as they left their chum, and Tom promised. He kept his word, for there was a message for the three before noon the next day.
The general surmise was correct. Tom’s presence was only needed in order to sign some affidavits in relation to the lawsuit, and he stated that he would be back at Randall the next day.
“Then we’ve got to get up a sort of celebration!” cried Frank, dancing about with the telegram in his hand.
“Surest thing you know!” agreed Sid. “We’ll have a spread in our room, Zane or no Zane.”
“And to-night let’s take in a theatre,” suggested Frank. “I’m in funds. Just got my allowance. I’ll blow you fellows.”
“Wow! You are a sport!” declared Phil, clapping the Big Californian on the back.
They took a chance on “running the guard,” in going to the theatre that evening, and, later Phil and Sid both agreed that Frank had acted rather strangely. After buying the theatre tickets the big lad offered to treat his chums to sodas, and, while these were being consumed, he made an excuse to slip out of the drug store.
“I just want to go next door to telephone,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
“There’s a telephone here,” suggested the drug clerk, as Frank started out.