“Mr. Frischette, may I trouble you for a moment.” He attempted to control the quaver in his voice. “We—Sandy, Toma and I—have been wondering about our bill. If you don’t mind, we’d like to pay you.”
Frischette’s face recovered some of its former cheerfulness.
“Ah, monsieurs, surely you are not to go so soon. Did you not tell me zat you stay here for three, four day yet. I will be ver’ sorry ef you go now.”
“But we have no intention of going now,” Dick enlightened him. “We merely wish to pay you in advance.”
The Frenchman’s dark face brightened. He watched Dick reach in his pocket and pull forth a huge roll of bills. At sight of it, his eyes gleamed and sparkled with envy.
“If you weesh, monsieur. But et ees not necessary. Ze amount ees twenty dollars for ze three of you.”
Dick fondled the heavy roll, slowly peeling off the required amount. He was watching the roadhouse keeper and noticed with satisfaction the effect the money had upon him. To his surprise, Frischette said:
“Ees not monsieur leetle careless to carry roun’ so ver’ much money? Are you not afraid zat thief will take et or else you lose et from your pocket?”
Dick pooh-poohed the idea, laughed, and with a sly look at Sandy, thrust the roll carelessly in the inside pocket of his coat. Frischette followed every move. His eyes seemed to burn into Dick’s pockets. A look of greed so transformed his features that for a time Dick could scarcely believe that this was the genial, obliging host of the previous afternoon.
When he had received the twenty dollars, Frischette had found it necessary to put down the square box, containing his treasure. He had placed it on the table at his elbow with his right arm flung out across it. Not once did he move from this position. While Dick was carrying out his part of the prearranged plan, Sandy also was busy. He moved to the opposite side of the table, in order to get a better view of the box. What he wanted to find out was whether or not it was locked.