“From Bart!” he breathed. “Wonder what this will tell me.” His eyes ran over the written lines hurriedly, and this is what he read: “FRANK: It’s no use—I quit! I suppose you will say it is a mean trick for me to leave you this way, but I don’t care if you do! It’s my nature cropping out. I think the devil is in me. I have taken all the money I need, and it will be useless for you to attempt to follow me up. You may as well let me go this time. I take the money in place of my salary, which you have not yet paid me. HODGE.” Frank stood there, staring at the paper—staring, staring. The words ran together and danced before him. Something was tugging at his heart. “Poor Hodge!” he murmured. “He cannot conquer himself.” Then he crushed the paper and threw it on the floor. “I’ll wager he didn’t take enough money to keep him a week!” came hoarsely from Frank’s lips. “He should have taken twenty-five dollars, at least, and it’s likely he hasn’t taken more than ten.” He picked up his grip and quickly emptied it upon the bed. Then he soon removed the false bottom and looked into it. Frank stood there, as if turned to stone. On his face was a look of mingled astonishment and pain. “Gone!” he finally said, his voice cold, hard and metallic. “Every dollar gone—eight hundred and sixty dollars in all!” Rat-tat-tat!—a knock on the door. Before Frank could speak the door swung open, and Granville Garland, Douglas Dunton and Lester Vance entered. “Mr. Merriwell,” cried Vance, “Dunton has heard something about Hodge!” “Has he?” said Frank, with perfect coolness, as if nothing had happened to disturb him in the least. “I have,” nodded Dunton, looking serious. “I heard that he was seen purchasing a ticket for St. Joseph.” “Is it true he has gone?” asked Garland. “I could hardly believe it when Vance told me.” “I’m afraid he has been foolish enough to leave,” admitted Merry. “And all because Havener called him down! My, my! How foolish! He oughtn’t to mind a little thing like that.” “That was not all,” said Vance significantly. “No?” “Remember what I told you?” “Yes.” “What was that?” asked Frank, sharply, causing Lester to start a bit. “Eh? Oh—oh—nothing much. Only—only——” “Only what?” Vance stiffened up. “I said Hodge would sneak,” he declared, attempting to be bold. “Oh, you did?” “Yes. He ran away after hitting me and I said he would not stay to face me again. I knew he would sneak.” “Remarkable!” exclaimed Frank, with a short laugh. “So you think Hodge ran away to keep from meeting you again?” “I am sure of it. He is a coward!” “Mr. Vance,” said Frank, “whatever else Bart Hodge may be there is not a drop of cowardly blood in his body. If you were a thousand instead of one he would not have run away from you.” Vance colored.