"That so?" said Frank.
"Yes. Say, the fellows all like you."
"I'm glad. Thanks," smiled Frank.
"And sent me—to hunt you—and come back."
"Back where, son?"
"Office—mall order house. Riot! "
"Why, what do you mean?" inquired Frank, quickening his steps.
"Big fellow from the country. Been drinking. Smashed one of your windows. Went away. Came back and smashed in the door. Says he'll wreck the place."
"Why, what for?" demanded Frank, now walking still faster.
"Says he's a customer of yours. Says you swindled him. Says he'll wipe you out. That's it—run."
Frank was not only puzzled, but quite startled. He broke Into a run. As he turned into the street where the office was located, he heard a mingled chorus of yells and cries.
A crowd made up mostly of boys filled the lawn space in front of the office. A glance showed to Frank the lower sash of the big front window in ruins.
The showcase outside lay tipped over on the