“Had to think. Case of necessity. Now, I want to know what this means.”
“It means murder! It means treachery! That old madman threw the bomb!”
That was true; the Mystery had disappeared. This astonishing scene had been witnessed by several persons. Two officers came hurrying up, and asked a score of questions.
“Le bomb! le bomb!” cried the crowd that had gathered.
“And the man who threw it is in that building!” shouted Diamond. “He threw it from that open window. He is in there now. Capture him! Arrest him!”
“You know him? You can identify him?” asked the officers.
They dashed across the street, and entered the café, from the second story of which the bomb had been thrown. Up-stairs they dashed.
“It will go hard with Mr. Noname if he is caught now,” said Frank.
“It should!” hissed Diamond. “The man is a maniac! I have felt it all along! I have feared him!”
Diamond was eager to capture the Mystery, but, when the room was reached from which the bomb had been thrown, all they found was a quiet-looking, smooth-faced man, who was seated at a table, drinking coffee, and looking over a morning paper. The officers demanded of Frank and Jack if that were the man. They seemed disappointed when both lads declared it was not. Then they questioned the man, who seemed greatly surprised. Had he seen another person in the room? He had. A man had entered a short time before, but he had not noticed him in particular, as he was sitting with his back toward the window. The man had just left the room in a hurried manner. Whither did he go? The door by which he had departed was pointed out.
The officers were eager to capture the bomb-thrower. It would be greatly to their credit. They hastened from the room by the door. Frank and Jack followed. Barely were they out of the room when Frank stopped.
“That the man in there knows nothing of the bomb-throwing.”
“I believe he knows more than he has told.”
“Go back, and keep an eye on him, Diamond.”
Jack rushed back to the room, and then a cry came from him. Wondering what had happened, Frank hurried after him.
It was true. The man had lost no time in getting out of that room. His coffee was on the table, and his paper lay on the floor. Frank Merriwell dashed down the stairs, hoping to prevent the man from escaping. He was too late to do so, however, for the stranger had left the restaurant. Once outside in the crowd, he had melted away.