"I wish to see Mrs. Bliss," he continued. "Mr. Smith was just here, was he not?"
"Ye-as, sir; but he's gone, sir."
"Gone, eh? Well, never mind, I will see Mrs. Bhss, anyway," returned Franklin, as coolly as he could, although the part he was playing excited him not a little.
His cool manner threw the girl off her guard, and she at once allowed him to enter. She was careful, however, to bolt and lock the door behind him, and Franklin noted that she placed the key in her pocket.
This latter action aroused his suspicions. Why had she done this?—to keep him there until she was ready to let him go? He smiled at the thought, for he fancied that he could easily escape by a window if he washed to flee.
"Mrs. Bliss is in the front room on the third floor," said the girl. "Do you know her?"
"I know of her," replied Franklin, and, without pausing for further questioning, he ran up two flights of stairs, and knocked on the first door he came to.
"Who is there?" came a rather weak voice from within.
"Is that Mrs. Bliss?" questioned Franklin.
"Yes."
"I am a friend of Walter Robinson. May I come in?"
