Vance recognized the grip as being beyond a doubt the one Merriwell always carried. He had observed that Frank seemed to think a great deal of that plain leather bag. He remembered hearing Merriwell say once on a time that the grip was very valuable to him, even though it might not be worth much to anybody else. Bart did not seem to be looking for any particular article in the grip, for he did not examine the things he dumped out so carelessly. Evidently he was after something that lay at the bottom. What was it? The spy choked down his heart, which seemed rising into his throat. The glitter in his eyes became exultant. His lips were drawn back from his teeth, and they quivered with a movement like the lips of a snarling dog that is watching a hated enemy. Everything was out of the grip at last; it was empty. The spy expected Hodge would begin sorting the articles over in search of what he desired, but nothing of the kind happened. Bart picked up the leather bag, and then, with one hand inside it and one outside, he made some singular movements. “Jove!” Vance almost shouted the word. Out from the grip Hodge had taken a false bottom! The spy dropped down and listened. He was aware that some sort of sound had issued from his lips in his intense excitement, and he wondered if the youth within the room had heard it. After some minutes, hearing nothing to warrant him in believing he had alarmed Bart, the fellow arose again on his toes and peered through the glass of the transom. Hodge was taking something out of the grip. Money! Yes, money—paper money! There was no doubt of it. In that grip, hidden by the false bottom, Merriwell carried his money, and Hodge was removing it! Now the spy’s excitement was so great that he could hear his own teeth chattering. “I’ve got him!” he thought. “I’ll settle him now!” Hodge partly turned toward the door, and Vance ducked down, listening again. It was several moments before he dared peer through the glass again. Hodge had restored the false bottom to the grip, and was putting back the various articles he had taken out in the first place. “He’s got the money!” exulted Vance. “He’s a thief! This is Frank Merriwell’s trusted friend! Oh, but I have him foul! I’d better skip, for he’ll be coming out directly.” Vance slipped down from the chair, and hurried toward his room, taking the chair with him. Safely within his room, he watched and waited till Hodge came out, locked Merriwell’s door and hurried along the corridor. Dodging out from his room, the spy sped the length of the corridor. Reaching the turn, he peered cautiously round. The door of Hodge’s room was standing open, and Hodge was within. Not more than two minutes did Vance have to watch. Hodge came out of his room, carrying his light overcoat and a heavy valise. With these he descended the stairs. “By heavens! he is going,” muttered Vance. “He has robbed Merriwell, and he is going to skip! What shall I do?”