“That you come to Boston and look over a location I have selected, go over the papers I have in my satchel, look me up to see if I am the kind of man to deal with, and make your decision.”
“Fair enough,” agreed Mr. Strapp. “Let Durham act as our representative. He’s only a boy, professor, but smarter than most grown men. I’d trust his good judgment any time; and if he says go ahead, that settles it.”
“Most satisfactory,” exclaimed the professor; his thoughtful face brightening magically. “I feel I can trust you.”
“When would you wish me to go to Boston, Professor Barrington?” asked Frank.
“Right away!” cried the professor, consulting his watch and jumping to his feet with the celerity of a pleased schoolboy.
CHAPTER III
THE MISSING SATCHEL
“That’s queer!” said Frank Durham.
He said it to himself, for he was seated alone in the railroad station awaiting the arrival of Professor Barrington. When that personage heard the decision of the young movies leader and his business partners, he was for getting to Boston forthwith. After Frank had glanced at a time-table, the arrangements had been made quickly.
“There is a through express at eleven o’clock,” he reported.
“Then we must make it,” insisted the professor, briskly. “Meet me at the station. I will just have time to go to my hotel, settle up affairs there and get my satchel. That train will land us in Boston in five hours, leaving a chance to do some business there by daylight.”