The old man dragged himself up from the chair.

"I'll go back to my room," he said. "I hope I have not taken up too much of your time."

"Not at all, senor. I shall be pleased to have you come again."

When old Spooner was gone and the door closed, Hagan observed:

"What cemetery did you dig him from, Felipe? Who is he, me boy?"

"A deranged old man, who thinks he has invented something and that it was stolen from him. He expects to recover his rights and become very rich. He has the next room."

"Then it's careful we'd better talk, for he may hear."

"No danger, Senor Hagan, for he is extremely deaf. I am glad you came, for I was tired shouting to make him understand me. What is the good news you bring?"

"Things are moving, Felipe. By my soul, I believe this vengeful being is really keeping his oath to make it warm for Frank Merriwell. When I was here last night I told you that old Gripper Scott had been taken ill and that Warren Hatch was in the hospital from a smash-up that had broken several of his ribs."

"_Si, senor._"

"Felipe, my eyes have been opened since last night. Alvarez Lazaro dined with Watson Scott the night the latter was taken ill. He talked confidentially with the chauffeur of Warren Hatch a short time before Hatch was smashed up in his automobile."

"You think, Senor Hagan, you think--what?"

"Whist! Don't be after breathing that I told you; but it's a fancy I have that Senor Lazaro could tell us the cause of the mysterious illness of Watson Scott, and could explain just why the automobile of Warren Hatch plunged down an embankment and smashed him up, while his chauffeur leaped and escaped. Lazaro is striking first at the railroad builders."

"And I am cooped here!" cried the boy. "I'll stay no longer! Why should I? I'm going out! I'm going to have a part in this!"

"And it's pinched you'll be in a minute."

"The police----"

"Are looking for ye now, just the same. Besides that, this Merriwell is doing his best to get track of ye. I didn't wish to worry you, so I didn't tell how he tried to follow me last night when I came here."

"Did he? Did he?"

"Sure he did. I don't know just where he ran across me, but first I knew he was tracking me through the streets."

"You came just the same."

"When I had neatly given him the slip. Oh, I fooled him, Felipe. I left him to wonder where I had gone."

"Lazaro followed you here."

"Because I did not get my eye on Lazaro, as I did on Frank Merriwell.

Don't worry, boy; he'll never find ye through me."

"If he came here, he'd not get away alive!" hissed Felipe.

"Make no mistake about him, me lad; he can fight with the best of them.

Some friends of his have arrived in town, and I think they're taking up the most of his attention now. It's planning some sort of a trip they are."

"I can't stay here in this place much longer, Senor Hagan. I shall go mad!"

"Wait a little. I met Lazaro this morning on Broadway. Says he, 'If you see Felipe to-day, tell him I will come and cheer his heart with good news this night.' I'll drop round myself, so it's not lonesome you'll be."

"Well, I will wait a little longer," said Felipe.

Had it been possible for Hagan and Felipe to look into the next room just then they would have been greatly surprised by the singular conduct of old Spooner.

Between the two rooms there was a door, one panel of which was cracked.

No longer bent and shaking, the man in the adjoining room was standing with one ear pressed close to the split panel. In spite of the fact that he had seemed quite deaf while talking with the Mexican lad, his appearance just now was that of one listening intently.

Shortly after Hagan left, Felipe heard the door of old Spooner's room open and close, following which there was a faltering, shuffling step on the stairs and the thump, thump, thump of a cane, growing fainter until it could be heard no longer.

"The old man has gone out to beg," thought Jalisco.

After leaving the house, old Spooner faltered along the street, turned several corners, and finally arrived at another house, which he entered.

Ascending one flight of stairs, he unlocked a door and disappeared into a hall room, closing and locking the door behind him.

Fully thirty minutes pa.s.sed before that door was unlocked and opened again.

Out of that room stepped a tall, straight, clear-eyed, manly looking youth, who bore not the remotest resemblance to the tottering old man who had entered.

This youth ran down the stairs, left the house, and turned westward, swinging away with long strides.

"Merriwell," he muttered, as he walked, "I almost believe you could have been a successful detective had you chosen that profession."

Some time later he arrived at a Broadway hotel and found a.s.sembled in a suite of rooms several persons, who greeted his appearance with exclamations of great satisfaction.

"We were getting worried about you, Frank," declared Inza, hurrying to meet him and giving him both her hands. "We had almost decided that something serious had happened to you."

"Didn't know but this new freak with the snowy hair had gobbled you up,"

said Bart Hodge.

"Told you he was all right," grunted Bruce Browning, who was lounging on the most comfortable chair in the place.

"You were so weary you didn't want to bother about going to make inquiries for him," said Elsie Bellwood. "Mrs. Medford was on the point of applying to the police."

"According to all the stories I hear," put in Mrs. Medford, "I believe it best for you to get out of this wicked city just as soon as possible, Frank."

Frank laughed.

"If everything goes well," he declared, "we'll be ready to start by day after to-morrow."

"Tell us just where you have been and what you have been doing," urged Inza.