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But Frank did not come along. Three nights he knew of Bart rising and stealing out of the room. Then there was an interval of two nights, during which Bart, plainly too much used up to stand the strain, or else out of money, remained in his bed. When Hodge arose again, and prepared to go out, he heard a stir in Merriwell's alcove. "Are you awake, Frank?" he asked, softly.
Then all knelt, and the father's voice in reverent prayer and thanksgiving, was for a moment lifted to the Great Father. Later, they were quiet and happy, around a tea, or rather a supper table. But Bart toyed with his fork, and sparkled with happy, brilliant sallies. Julia watched him with real concern. "Arthur," she said, "I am a woman; and a woman likes to see even her lover eat.
"I'll go with you," said Bruce. "Very well." Bruce and Bart then set out, and forced their way through the dense alder bushes, until at length they found themselves near the place. Here there was a chasm in the line of cliff, reaching from the top to the bottom. The sides were precipitous, and they could see perfectly well all the way down.
"Why, Bart," he said, smiling, "you look as red as fire; you ought to look as pale as milk. Do you want to begin the fight?" "No," said Bart, sturdily; "I hope we shan't have to fight at all, for it seems very horrid to have to shoot at a man." "Ever so much more horrid for a man to shoot at you," said Joses in a hoarse whisper as he crawled up behind them.
She was smooth and lacquered and glittering and she raised her eyebrows at Bart as if he were some strange form of life she hadn't seen very often. "I'd er like to see Raynor One," he said. Her dainty pointed fingernail, varnished blue, stabbed at points of light. "On what business?" she asked, not caring. "It's a personal matter." "Then I suggest you see him at his home."
But it is on record that at the brilliant wedding of Sir Andrew Ffoulkes, Bart., with Mlle.
"Old Scraggsy's as cunnin' as a pet fox, ain't he?" the new navigating officer whispered, as Scraggs departed for his stateroom to change into his other suit. "He's goin' to blow himself on us to-night, thinkin' to soften our hard resolution. We'll fool him. Take all he gives us, but stand pat, Bart." Bart nodded.
With the appalling news there rang in his ears the tones of his mother's voice retailing the gossip of the village. This, then, was what she could not repeat. After a moment he raised his head and asked in a low, firm voice: "Did Bart go to Paris after he left here?" "No, of course not! Went 'board the Corsair bound for Rio, and has been there ever since. I told you that before.
I went among it, and there's no place for anybody to hide." "Oh, pshaw!" said Bart reassuringly, "you are only nervous, Mr. Pope. It's some live freight, likely. Can I take a look?" "Sure wish you would. I've been posting up on express business, you see, maybe that's the matter. Read about fellows hiding in boxes, and jumping out and murdering the messenger.
"Didn't you consider that something more than a little fun last night? It struck me as a roaring farce." A faint trace of a smile came to Hodge's dark face. "You enjoy anything of the kind far more than I do, Merriwell," he said. "I like fun of a different sort." "Well, I fancy you will acknowledge I take some interest in other sports, Bart?"
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