Frank sat still some seconds, staring at Bart. Then he rose to his feet, and the look on his face caused Hodge to rise to his elbow and cry: “What is it? What is the matter, Merriwell?” “Bart,” said Frank, slowly, “every dollar I had in that grip was gone when I looked for it after your departure.” That brought Hodge out of bed. “Gone?” he gasped, in horror. “Gone? Why, how could that be?” “I don’t know.” “Frank—Frank, you don’t think I took that money? My God! you don’t think I took it? I have fallen pretty low, but you don’t think I would rob you—you who have been the only true friend I had in all the world? Why, Merry, I’d starve—I’d suffer the tortures of hell before I’d do such a thing!” Frank did not doubt him then; he felt in his heart that Bart spoke the truth. And Merry’s heart leaped with joy and triumph. Hodge was not guilty! Who was? But Bart was completely “broken up” by what he had heard. Never had Frank seen him look so overcome by horror. “Merry, Merry!” he gasped, “did you think I had stolen your money? Was that why you followed me?” “No!” cried Frank. “That was not why I followed you, Hodge. I followed because I hoped to overtake you and bring you back—because I wished to save you from the consequences of your folly.” “But you thought I had taken the money?” “I hoped not.” “Still, you thought I had! Oh, heavens! Frank, Frank, this is enough to break a fellow’s heart!” He dropped down on the bed, burying his face in his hands and shaking all over. Frank’s distress was great, but it was mingled with a feeling of triumph. “Bart,” he said, speaking swiftly, “I could not account for the loss of the money. It was gone, and on the little table was your note, in which you said you had taken enough to meet your needs. What was I to think? It was your handwriting—I knew that. How could I account for the disappearance of the money?” “How can you account for it now?” groaned Hodge. “Frank, are you sure it was gone—are you sure you made no mistake?” “Yes, sure.” “It doesn’t seem possible!” panted Hodge. Then he caught sight of Frank’s grip, sprang for it, caught it up. “Open it, Frank!” he cried—“open it and let me see! I shall not be satisfied till I look!” “It is no use,” said Merry. “The money is gone.” “Open it!” Hodge shouted. Frank did so. Bart tore out the contents. He sprang the fastening that held the false bottom in and removed the bottom. “Yes, gone!” he groaned, thrusting in his hand and feeling about. “But as there is a God, I swear I did not take it! Do you believe me, Frank?” “Yes, Bart, I believe you.” “Thank Heaven!” “More than that, I never did believe that you took it. My doubts caused me to keep silent when I made the discovery. Not a single person knows I lost the money.” “You—you kept silent—for my sake?” “Yes.”