"We separated at the corner of Thirty-second Street and Broadway. I was for going down Broadway, but he said that he wanted to see something of the Tenderloin district." "The Tenderloin!" exclaimed Frank, with a groan. Instinctively he hurried his steps. "Hasn't Mellor turned up yet?" asked Higgins, hurrying along with him. "No, and unless he's more careful than you were there's no telling what mischief he may have got into." Higgins looked as penitent as if he had been guilty of a serious crime. The flush on his face had entirely gone now, and he was quite pale. "See here," exclaimed Frank, cheerfully, "you've had your scolding, so now brace up and forget it. If you feel the slightest soreness from that kick, give yourself a good rubbing when you get to the hotel, and go to bed." "Aren't you coming?" asked Higgins, for Frank had stopped short. "No." "What shall I say to the fellows?" "Nothing; or you might tell them that I met you and ordered you to the hotel; if they ask for me, you don't know where I am, and that's all there is to it." Higgins nodded and went on obediently to the Murray Hill. Frank, boiling with indignation and sore with anxiety, set off toward the corner of Thirty-second Street and Broadway. He had no foolish idea that he would find Mellor there, but as that was the last place where he had been seen, it seemed to be the most sensible point from which to begin a search for him. When he arrived at the corner he looked about a moment and then entered a hotel, and going to the telephone closet, rang up the Murray Hill and asked for Browning. "Bruce," he said, when he heard a familiar hello in the receiver at his ear, "has Mellor returned?" "No, but Higgins has." "All right. Good-by." "Hold on, Frank." "Well?" "Are you coming back soon?" "I don't know." "Rowland and Hill expect you to take a run with us up the avenue this evening." "I'll be there if I can." "What are you up to, anyway?" "That's my business, old fellow; say nothing about it, but if I don't turn up, go ahead with your run without me." With this Frank hung up the receiver without giving Bruce any further chance to ask questions. His object in not explaining what he was about was to prevent any of the contestants from worrying. He was pretty sure that Higgins would not speak of his own adventure, and he did not care to have even cool-headed Browning suspect that there was anything so serious in the wind as a deliberate plot to disable Yale athletes. It seemed to Frank as if he had never been in so serious a situation. There had been times in his travels when one adventure or another had brought him in danger of his life, but at such times his mind was usually easy; now he was oppressed by responsibility and anxiety for others. The credit of Yale depended upon the good showing at the intercollegiate games; whether they won or lost was not so much of consequence as that the Yale crowd should do their best.