"Yes, Stet," said Frank, slipping out of bed, "I hear you. Well?"
"It's me," said Stet. "Lift up the screen, will you?"
"Oh, want to come in!"
"I don't, but I do want to give you something."
"Why, what is this?" asked Frank, as lifting the screen Stet shoved a round package into his hand.
"It's your missing mailing lists."
"And where did you get them?"
"Dale Wacker has been using them ever since he started in business," explained Stet. "Where he got them is easy to guess."
"From Markham, of course."
"That's it. This was my first chance to get away from them. Say, there's Wacker and his partner. They're up to the worst swindle you ever heard of. They've taken in a big lot of money. They're booked to leave to-morrow, so I sneaked the lists out of the outfit. I'm not going back to them."
"Why, then—"
"I'm going down to Hazelhurst," proceeded Stet.
Frank was surprised that Stet should mention the very place he had most in his mind.
"To Hazelhurst?" he repeated curiously.
