The darky, who was a faithful servant of the Reades, and had accompanied both on their tours in foreign lands, ducked his head, with a grin, and replied:
“Yo’ father wants yo’, Marse Frank, jes’ as quick as eber yo’ kin come!”
“My father,” exclaimed Frank, quickly. “What is it?”
“I don’t know nuffin’ ‘bout it tall, Marse Frank. He jes’ say fo’ me to tell yo’ he want fo’ to see yo’.”
“Where is he?”
“In his library, sah.”
“All right, Pomp. Tell him I will come at once.”
The darky darted away. Frank saw that the doors to the secret rooms were locked. This was a wise precaution for hosts of cranks and demented inventors were always hovering about the place and would quickly have stolen the designs if they could have got at them.
Not ten minutes later Frank entered the library where his father was.
The elder Reade was pacing up and down in great excitement.