out his confederates in Spring Lake, Connecticut. Their orders had been not to let Dillon go until tomorrow.
"Pretty good now, Mr. Carter," replied Pop. "I got a wire from Speedy telling me to come right home. Funny thing about that wire. It was dated two days ago but the first I saw of it was this morning. I took the first train out I could get. I knew it must be important if Speedy wired. That boy hasn't got the price of sending a telegram for nothing."
"Don't worry about not getting the telegram till late," glibly explained Carter. "You know how it is in those small towns. They pass it all around Main Street for the rubes to read before they deliver it." He asked curiously, "Did Dr. Hartley say it was all right for you to leave Spring Lake? Blood pressure O.K. and all that?"
"No, he tried hard to get me to stay," admitted Pop. "Fact, he threatened to lock me in my room if I insisted on leaving. Said he was doing it for my own good, of course. But I fooled him. He got a long distance telephone call and I grabbed up my bag and ran. Just made the train. Say, I didn't like that Doc Hartley much, Carter. Friend of yours?"
"He's all right," said Carter. "A little rough, but he knows how to hand out the proper medicine."
Inwardly he was raging at "Dr. Hartley," alias Spike Hogan, for letting Pop Dillon out of his clutches. The aggravating part of it was that the long distance telephone call taking Spike away from
