“Hello, here’s Hostetter now,” announced the constable. “Colonel Gunn, this is him.”
“I heard that Carson had been found,” exclaimed Hostetter. “Nothing has happened to him, I trust?”
Bully answered for himself. Sitting up suddenly and pushing Merry away, he glanced around with dull and yet frightened eyes.
“Who’s that?” he muttered thickly. “Where’s Hostetter?”
“Right here, old man,” cried the little laundryman fervently. “Have you managed to locate my pocketbook? You know you said this morning that you might be able to get a clew.”
“Nothin’ doin’,” said Bully thickly. “I must ’a’ been asleep--it was that there glass o’ water, I’ll bet a dollar!”
He tried to get to his feet, Chip assisting him, but stumbled and fell back. As he did so, a long black object fell from his pocket. Hostetter pounced on it with a shrill yell.
As he examined it feverishly, Bully once more came to life. He clapped a hand to his pocket, then staggered up.
“Where’s my wallet!” he growled, clutching for support.
“Your wallet!” cried Merry. “You mean Hostetter’s wallet. Where’d you get it, eh? Are you the one that stole it?”
Bully seemed to shrink suddenly into himself, muttering and mumbling.
“Who says I stole it?” he grunted defiantly, only half conscious yet. He gave a lurch and caught at Merriwell for support. “Hostetter--durned little fool----”
“What do you mean?” exclaimed Merriwell sharply. Bully tried to rouse himself. “Here, one of you fellows get a bucket of water, will you?”
“Lemme go,” grunted Bully, trying to reel away. “I got to place bet--thousand-dollar bet--little fool Hostetter handed me his money----”
“That’s a lie!” snapped Hostetter suddenly. “I believe you stole that money, Carson!”
“I believe so, too,” said Merry dryly. “Constable, you’d better get ready to take charge of him when--ah, here’s the water now!”
One of the grinning cadets arrived with a pail of water. Bully had already relapsed into slumber, and Merry took the water and soused it over his head.
A second later Bully was on his feet, shaking his head and bellowing in fury.
“That’s enough out o’ you,” said the constable, tapping him on the shoulder. “I guess you can come along to the lockup, my man.”
“What fur!” he wailed, as the constable gripped him firmly. “I ain’t done nothin’! Take your hands off’n me!”