“Well, I’m going to fool them!”
CHAPTER VIII
A TRICK OF THE ENEMY
Frank hurried back to the hotel. A brilliant picture filled his thoughts, his eyes sparkled, and the harder he cogitated the more alluring became the prospect.
“There never was a chance like it,” he said almost breathlessly, as he reached the hotel. “Why! Professor Barrington is not here!” he added, as he entered their room.
Frank was about to go downstairs again, counting on finding his friend in the lobby, when he noticed a sheet of paper with writing on it lying across the table in the middle of the room.
“What’s this, now?” he spoke, picking up the document and scanning it closely. It read:
“I am in serious trouble and wish you to see me and take some messages to friends. Please come at once to 22 Burdell Row.”
The scrawl was signed “Aaron Bissell.” It seemed to Frank that he had heard the professor refer to a person of that name high up in educational circles. It appeared as though the message had called the professor away from the hotel and that this explained his absence.
Frank noted that the message had been hurriedly scrawled and that it had not been folded. In one corner was the notation in pencil: “Tel. 3:43,” and Frank readily discerned that it had come over the hotel telephone about fifteen minutes before.
“I’ll make sure of that,” he reflected, and he verified his surmise from the operator downstairs. There was no valid reason why Frank should entertain any suspicions. It was natural that a friend in distress should send for the professor, who was kind to everybody; still, a memory of the sly nature of Slavin and his adherents flashed into Frank’s thoughts. He went to the clerk at the desk.