What do you think of it ?" Before Frank could answer, some one appeared in the clubhouse door, across the athletic field from the grand stand, and trumpeted Merriwell's name through his hands.
"Hello!" answered Frank, getting up and shouting.
"Mr.Bradlaugh wants you on the phone," came the answer.
Without delaying, Frank leaped the rail in front of him and sprinted for the clubhouse.

Ballard and Clancy followed, but at a more leisurely pace.
"That dream of yours, Pink," averred Clancy, on the way across the field, "was a 'happenchance'-- like the old, played-out town we found in the Picket Posts." Ballard merely grunted.

It was plain that he had his own ideas on the subject of that dream.
On reaching the clubhouse the two lads found Merry just coming away from the telephone.

His face was clouded, and there was an anxious light in his eyes.
"What's wrong, Chip ?" inquired Clancy.
"Borrodaile isn't in Gold Hill," was the answer.

"He left the Bristow Hotel three days ago, and hasn't been seen since.".