Frank Merriwell’s Son E-Book

Burt L. Standish

• Herausgeber: Ktoczyta.pl
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

This is one of the final stories about Frank Merriwell. It would seem that we still may not know about our hero. We already live his life and know enough. However, Burt L. Standish left the most interesting thing at the end. The intriguing development of the plot. Read to the end.

Leseprobe

Contents

CHAPTER I. A NEW LIFE

CHAPTER II. THE BIRTHMARK

CHAPTER III. ON THE VERANDA

CHAPTER IV. A MAID OF MYSTERY

CHAPTER V. THE SURPRISE

CHAPTER VI. THE FACE IN THE WATCH

CHAPTER VII. A BLACK SAMSON

CHAPTER VIII. THE SUBSTITUTES

CHAPTER IX. SPARKFAIR'S HIT

CHAPTER X. A MOONLIGHT MEETING

CHAPTER XI. THE TRUTH

CHAPTER XII. A HEART LAID BARE

CHAPTER XIII. THE PLEDGE OF FAITH

CHAPTER XIV. THE SIGNAL FOR SILENCE

CHAPTER XV. KIDNAPED!

CHAPTER XVI. FOR THE SAKE OF OLD DAYS

CHAPTER XVII. A CALL TO THE "FLOCK."

CHAPTER XVIII. A MAN OF THE PEOPLE

CHAPTER XIX. AN INTRUDER

CHAPTER XX. OLD FRIENDS EN ROUTE

CHAPTER XXI. AT MERRY HOME

CHAPTER XXII. ANOTHER PILGRIM

CHAPTER XXIII. IN THE NOOK

CHAPTER XXIV. ON THE CLIFF

CHAPTER XXV. A STARTLING DISCOVERY

CHAPTER XXVI. A LIVELY GAME

CHAPTER XXVII. MURILLO'S FAREWELL

CHAPTER XXVIII. A COMPACT

CHAPTER XXIX. THE PROOF

CHAPTER XXX. THE EDUCATED HORSE

CHAPTER XXXI. A CHALLENGE

CHAPTER XXXII. A HARD PROPOSITION

CHAPTER XXXIII. THE VOICE OF THE TEMPTER

CHAPTER XXXIV. A TROUBLED MIND

CHAPTER XXXV. REMORSE

CHAPTER XXXVI. A FRIEND WORTH HAVING

CHAPTER XXXVII. A PROTEST

CHAPTER XXXVIII. A CONFESSION

CHAPTER XXXIX. JOLTS FOR BULLIES

CHAPTER XL. A DETERMINED FRONT

CHAPTER XLI. THE HOUR AND THE MAN

CHAPTER I

A NEW LIFE

Lizette, the French nurse, came softly and lightly down the stairs and found Frank Merriwell pacing the library floor, while Bart Hodge and Elsie Bellwood talked to him soothingly.

“Madame will see you now, saire,” said the nurse, with a little curtsy. “Ze doctaire he is gone now some time. Madame she is comforterbill. She say she see you–alone.”

Frank was all eagerness to go. He bounded up the stairs, two at a time, scarcely heeding the white-capped nurse, who hurried after him, softly calling:

“Not on ze rush, saire. You make ze rush, you gif madame ze start.”

“That’s so,” muttered Merry, checking himself at the head of the stairs and waiting for the cautious nurse. “Lizette, lead the way.”

The girl, stepping softly as a cat, gently opened a door for him, thus revealing a chamber where the light was softened by drawn window shades. Within that chamber Mrs. Merriwell reclined amid the snowy pillows of a broad bed.

“Ze mastaire is here, madame,” said the nurse, as Frank entered.

In a moment Merry was bending over his wife.

Something small and pink, in a soft white garment, nestled on her arm. It uttered a weak little cry–the cry of a new life in the great seething world–which was sweet music to the pale woman on the bed and the anxious man who bent over her.

“Oh, Frank,” murmured Inza, “he’s calling to you! He knows his father has come.”

Merriwell kissed her lightly, softly, tenderly. Then, with that indescribable light in his eyes, he gazed long and fondly at the babe.

“It’s a boy, Inza!” he murmured. “Just as you wished!”

“Just as I wished for your sake, Frank,” she said. “I knew you wanted a son. This is the happiest moment of my life, for I have given him to you.”

“A son!” exclaimed Frank softly, as he straightened up and threw his splendid shoulders back. “Why, think of it, Inza, I’m a father–and you are the dearest, sweetest, handsomest, noblest little mother in all the world!”

The nurse ventured to speak.

“Madame is so well! Madame is so strong! It is wonderful! It is grand!”

“You’ve been very good, Lizette,” said Inza. “We’ll not forget it.”

The nurse retired to the far end of the room, where she stood with her back toward the bed, pretending to inspect and admire a Donatello upon the wall.

Frank took the chair beside the bed and found Inza’s hand, which he clasped in a firm but gentle grasp.

“What shall we name him?” he asked.

“Why, haven’t you decided on a name, dear?”

“Without consulting you? Do you think I would do such a thing, Inza?”

“The name that pleases you will please me,” she declared. “What shall it be, my husband?”

“Why not the name of my most faithful friend? Why not call him Bartley Hodge Merriwell?”

“If that satisfies you, he shall be called by that name.”

Somehow Frank fancied he detected a touch of disappointment in her voice.

“But you, sweetheart–haven’t you a suggestion to make?”

“If you would like me to make one.”

“You know I would, Inza.”

“Then let Hodge be his middle name. Let’s call him Frank Hodge Merriwell. The initials are the same as your own. Bart will be pleased, and to me the baby will be little Frank.”

“Fine!” laughed Merry, in great satisfaction. “That is settled. That shall be his name. Hello, there, Frank Merriwell, the younger! I’ll make an athlete of you, you rascal! I’ll give you such advantages to start with as I never had myself.”

“No matter what you give him, no matter what you do for him,” murmured the happy mother, “he can never become a better or nobler man than his father.”

Frank kissed her again.

CHAPTER II

THE BIRTHMARK

“Where are Bart and Elsie, Frank?” asked Inza.

“They’re in the library.”

“I want them to come up. Tell Lizette to call them.”

The soft-footed nurse flitted from the room, and a few moments later Elsie Bellwood and Bart Hodge appeared. Hodge followed Elsie with an air of reluctance and confusion, which caused Inza to smile.

In a moment the golden-haired girl was bending over the bed, caressing her bosom friend, and murmuring soft words of affection.

“You’re such a brave, brave woman, Inza!” she exclaimed. “Oh, you make me feel like a coward!”

“Come here, Hodge,” urged Frank, drawing his friend round to the other side of the bed. “Here’s the boy. Here he is–Frank Hodge Merriwell.”

“Frank Hodge Merriwell?” echoed Bart, fumbling for Merry’s hand and grasping it with an almost savage grip. “You’ve given him my name?”

“We did it–both of us together, old man.”

“Merry, I–I don’t know what–to say,” stammered Bartley. “You’ve completely upset me. It’s the greatest honor––”

“There, there,” smiled Frank, “don’t splutter and mumble like that, old fellow. You don’t have to say a word. Just make a bow to the new-born king.”

Elsie was not one to gush, but, with clasped hands and flushed face, she expressed her admiration for the child.

“You ought to feel proud, Bart,” she said. “You ought to feel almost as proud as Frank.”

“Proud?” laughed Hodge. “Why, I–I–– My chest has expanded three inches in the last thirty seconds. Proud? I’ll bet my hat won’t fit me! He’s a star, the little rascal!”

“He has ze star on his left shouldaire,” said Lizette. “Shall I show it, madame? Shall I show zem ze beautiful mark?”

“Please do,” said Inza.

The nurse loosened the child’s clothes and exposed the small, shapely shoulder. There, at the very base of the arm, was a small, perfectly formed pink, five-cornered star.

“I was right!” cried Hodge. “There’s been a wonderful addition to the universe! A new star has risen!”

“It’s a birthmark,” said Frank.

“Oh, isn’t it very strange!” breathed Elsie. “It gives me a superstitious feeling of awe. It seems to me that he is marked by fate to be something grand and wonderful.”

“It was so good of you, Elsie, to come to me when I wanted you,” breathed Inza. “And Hodge–he traveled so far.”

“Oh, everything is coming as smoothly as possible at the mines,” declared Bart. “There’s a first-class foreman at both the Queen Mystery and the San Pablo. I could leave as well as not, and the old trains couldn’t run fast enough to bring me here after I received the wire from Frank, saying that Elsie would be here. You bet I was glad to shake the alkali dust out of my clothes.”

“You’ve done great things for me at the mines, Bart,” said Merry. “Everything now seems to be going right for me everywhere in the world. The Central Sonora Railroad is practically completed, and the San Pablo is paying enormously. But these are not things to speak of on an occasion like this.”

After a few minutes Bart and Elsie retired, the nurse took the baby, and Frank lingered a while longer at the side of his wife.

On returning to the library, Elsie stood at one of the large windows and looked out upon the grounds and across the broad road toward the handsome buildings of Farnham Hall. There was a strange expression of mingled happiness and regret on her fair face. Something like a mist filled her eyes.

Hodge came up behind her and put his arms round her.

“A penny for your thoughts, Elsie,” he said.

“I don’t think I could express them in words,” she confessed. “Do you think me a jealous person, Bart?”

“Jealous?” he exclaimed. “Far from it!”

“But I am–I’m jealous. I’m dying of envy.”

“You–you jealous–of whom?”

“Inza. Look how all the best things of life have come to her. She has a grand husband, who is doing a magnificent and noble work. Look at those splendid buildings. Every one acknowledges now that Frank has done and is doing more for the upbuilding and the uplifting of American boys than any person has ever before done in all history. Inza is his wife, and they have a son.”

Bart’s arms dropped at his sides, and he turned away.

In surprise, Elsie turned and saw him move from her. In a moment she had him by the arm.

“What is it, Bart?” she exclaimed, in dismay.

He shook his head, seeming unable to speak.

“Tell me what it is. Tell me what I did to hurt you,” she commanded.

He faced her again, looking deep into her blue eyes.

“You called up the past, Elsie,” he said, in a low tone. “I can’t forget that once I thought Frank loved you–and you loved him. You’ve confessed a feeling of jealousy toward Inza.”

“Oh, no, no, no!” she said quickly. “You didn’t understand me, Bart–truly you didn’t! It was not the sort of jealousy you mean. I’m not jealous of her because she is Frank’s wife–never! never!”

He seemed puzzled.

“Then what did you mean–what did you mean?” he asked.

“Why, can’t you understand? Can’t you see how it is? Fortune or fate, or whatever you may call it, has been against me–against us, Bart. Have you forgotten how we planned on a double wedding? Have you forgotten––”

“Forgotten?” cried Hodge. “I should say not! It was the bitterest disappointment of my life! You know I urged you, Elsie–I used every persuasion in my power.”

“But I could not consent. I was an invalid, and I feared my health would never return.”

“It has returned, little sweetheart. You’re well again. You’re stronger and handsomer than ever before in all your life. You put me off then, but you can’t do it now! I won’t let you!”

“You mean that––”

“I mean that when I left Mexico I made a resolve–I swore an oath. If I go back there–if Frank wants me to go–you will go with me.”

“Bart!”

“You must go with me,” he repeated.

“Must?”

“I have said it. Look here, Elsie, I know you’re not jealous of Inza because Merry is rich.”

“Oh, no, no!”

“As a rule, I have told you everything, my girl, but I now confess that there is one thing that I have not told you. I have a secret.”

“A secret from me?”

“Yes, a secret from you. You heard Frank state how well the San Pablo is paying. You heard him say that I had been faithful in my work for him. Perhaps you do not know that ere we entered into an agreement by which I took charge of his two mines and acted as overseer for both of them–perhaps you do not know that we nearly quarreled.”

Elsie looked astounded.

“Nearly quarreled?” she exclaimed.

“Yes.”

“Why, how could you?”

“Because he insisted on a certain condition in our agreement. Because he insisted that, after a lapse of time and at the completion of the Mexican railroad, I should accept a third interest in the San Pablo Mine. I fought against it. I told him it was not right. I even threatened to quit and have nothing to do with the work he wished me to perform. He was inexorable, unyielding. I pointed out that my service was not worth what he offered. I showed him that he could get experienced and expert men to do the work for an infinitesimal part of what he proposed to give me. He asserted that he was not giving me this merely for my labor, but on account of past favors and things I had done for him which could not be paid for in money. Even though I did not permit him to force me into consenting to take this share of his mine, I finally remained and did my best. I arrived in Bloomfield three days ago. The day I reached here he placed a paper in my hands. That paper makes me one-third owner of the San Pablo. I’m rich, Elsie. The future is assured for me and for you. That very day I went to the town clerk and had another paper made out. Here it is.”

He took a document from his pocket, opened it, and placed it in her hands.

“Why–why, what––“ faltered Elsie.

“It’s a marriage license,” said Bart. “I’ve made all arrangements, and to-morrow, God willing, you and I will be made man and wife.”

It was even as Hodge had said. On the morrow, at her request, they were married in Inza’s chamber.

CHAPTER III

ON THE VERANDA

It was a beautiful sunny morning some three weeks later.

Inza and Elsie sat on the broad veranda of Merry Home, while Lizette, the nurse, trundled the baby up and down beneath the shady trees on the broad lawn.

Over at the east of Farnham Hall a group of laborers, among whom were fully twenty of the Farnham boys, were completing the foundations for Merriwell’s new manual-training school building.

A glimpse of the distant athletic ground showed a number of boys hard at work on the track and the baseball field.

There was a look of serene happiness on Inza’s face, while Elsie was positively rosy. After chatting a while, they sat some moments in silence, busy with their own thoughts. Finally their eyes met, and Inza laughed.

“No one would ever dream now that you were at one time determined to be an invalid, Elsie,” she said.

“Determined to be?” exclaimed Elsie. “Why do you use that word, Inza?”

“Why, you remember that I laughed at you–you remember I told you a hundred times that you would be well and strong again.”

“Yes, you were most encouraging, Inza, and I’ll never forget how faithfully you stuck by me. Still, there were reasons why I feared for my future health.”

“Silly reasons.”

“Oh, no, Inza; not silly. You can’t call them that. You know my mother was never strong, and she finally became a chronic invalid.”

“But your father––”

“Oh, he was a rugged man.”

“You know it’s said that girls generally take after their fathers and boys after their mothers.”

“But in my case it was different. A thousand times my father told me how much I looked like my mother. I had a picture of her, and I could see I was becoming more and more like her every day.”

“You’re a person who worries, Elsie. When things are not going just right you give yourself over to fears for the future. I have absolute courage and faith.”

“Oh, I know my failing,” admitted the golden-haired bride. “You and Frank were made for each other. You’re both courageous and trustful. Frank has done marvels for Bart in the way of giving him unwavering confidence and courage. You know Bart used to be quick-tempered, resentful, and inclined to brood. He has learned, through Frank’s example, to overcome such failings, and he’s now almost as confident and optimistic as Frank himself. I think Bart will help me in that respect.”

“We’re both extremely fortunate,” said Inza gravely. “If other girls could have such good fortune, this world would be a happy place. You are going to stay with us this summer?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Bart thinks it his duty to return to the mines. If he goes, I shall go with him.”

“But Frank says Bart will not be needed there for three months, at least. You’re not going to settle down to live in Arizona or Mexico, Elsie?”

“Oh, I don’t expect we’ll live there all our lives,” was the smiling answer. “But while duty keeps my husband out there, I shall remain with him.”

“That’s fine–that’s splendid! But Frank says there is no reason why Bart should spend more than five or six months of the year at the mines. Frank wants you to have a home in the East–here in Bloomfield.”

“Oh, I hope we may!” cried Elsie. “I’m sure Bart would like that.”

“Then you’d better make your plans for it. There’s a fine building lot down the road, and Frank owns it. You know you were married so suddenly we had no opportunity to make you a wedding present. If you can induce Bart to build, Frank and I have decided to give you that lot as a wedding present.”

Elsie sprang up, her eyes dancing, flung her arms round Inza’s neck, and kissed her repeatedly.

“It’s too much–too much!” she cried.

For a few moments their words and laughter were mingled in such confusion that the record would produce a senseless jumble. Finally Elsie sat down, appearing utterly overcome.

“Oh, what a glorious world!” she murmured. “What a grand, inexpressible thing real true friendship is! Still, such a gift is––”

“Now don’t feel that this is a case of charity,” laughed Inza. “I want you here–we want you here. Bart doesn’t need charity. His interest in the San Pablo makes him independent. He could buy a building lot anywhere he chose in Bloomfield; but it happens Frank owns the best lot near us, and our selfish desire to have you close by is one motive for the present.”

“Selfish, Inza? There never was a selfish bone in you or in your husband. I understand and appreciate the spirit of the gift, and I’m sure Bart will. Oh, won’t it be the finest thing to plan our new house, to watch while it is being built, to furnish it, and finally to move into it and start with a real home of our own!”

Again they were silent.

Amid the trees birds were calling, mate to mate. A proud redbreast danced across the lawn, pausing to capture a fated insect, then flew up into one of the trees to feed its mate upon a nest.

Elsie was watching the maid, now bending over the carriage and crooning softly to the baby.

“Did you ever notice how queerly Lizette does her hair, Inza?”

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” was the answer. “There are several queer things about her. Her skin is strangely dark, almost as if stained, and I know she makes up her eyebrows. Sometimes I’ve noted that her French, when she speaks in her own language, is anything but correct, yet she seems a girl of some education. Her intonation is occasionally a trifle different from that of most French people I’ve met.”

“But she’s very faithful.”

“Yes, she is very faithful and very kind with the baby. But I believe Lizette has a secret.”

“A secret?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Occasionally she looks at me in the most peculiar manner. I’ve caught her looking that way several times. Once I discovered her glaring at Frank’s back in a way that was almost savage.”

“How singular! What do you suppose it means?”

“Oh, I don’t know, unless it may be that she envies Frank and me. It may be that some time she was disappointed by an unfaithful lover.”

“Poor girl!” breathed Elsie. “If such is the case, I think I realize how she feels. But look, Inza, here come the boys now. They’re coming over from the Hall.”

The “boys” were Frank and Bart, who were approaching side by side, two splendid specimens of American manhood.

CHAPTER IV

A MAID OF MYSTERY

Frank and Bart waved their hands and lifted their hats. Hodge dashed up the veranda steps to join his wife, while Merry paused to bend over the baby carriage.

“Why, he’s wide awake,” laughed Merry, as he surveyed the baby. “He’s chipper and bright as a new-minted dollar, but he isn’t raising much of a racket.”

“Oh, he has ze most splendid tempaire for ze baby zat I evaire see,” said Lizette. “He no make ze cry, ze squawk, ze squeal all ze time, like some babeez. When he is hungaire he hollaire some. Zat is naturaile.”

“Quite,” laughed Merry. “When I’m hungry I’m inclined to put up a holler myself. Hey, hey, toddlekins, you’re getting a dimple!”

He touched the baby’s cheeks, and the tiny hands found and grasped his finger. A moment later that finger was in the baby’s mouth.

“Hold on, you cannibal!” protested Frank, in great delight. “You’re trying to eat your own father! Haven’t you any heart or conscience! Haven’t you any feeling for your dad! I believe he’s hungry now, Lizette. I believe he’s perishing! Lizette, you’re starving him!”

“Oh, oh, monsieur!” cried the nurse. “I nevaire starve heem. He have all he need. You gif heem too much he git ze colic–he git ze cramp. You make heem sick. You know how to feed ze big boys to make zem strong and well, but you know not how to feed ze baby. You leave it to Lizette. She takes ze perfect care of heem.”

“I fancy that’s right, Lizette,” said Merry, straightening up and looking at her. “You’ve proved that you know your business. I’ll remember you well, my girl. But, say, Lizette, what makes you do your hair so queerly? What makes you hide your ears with it?”

The nurse seemed confused, and bowed her head until he could not see her face fairly.

“Oh, maybe I have ze very ugly ear, monsieur. Eef not zat, mebbe I like ze way I do ze hair. You know one time ze many girl do ze hair zis way like Cleo de Merode.”

“Well, you don’t need to advertise yourself, and that was one of Cleo’s advertising dodges. Have you a brother?”

“A brothaire?”

“Yes.”

“Why you ask it?”

“Because there’s something wonderfully familiar in your appearance. Because I’ve either seen you before or some one very much like you. Have you a brother?”

“I have not ze brothaire.”

“Then it must be a coincidence, but somehow I seem to remember dimly a boy who looked like you. I may be mistaken.”

“I have neither the brothaire nor the sistaire. I am all alone in ze world, monsieur. I have ze hard time to geet ze living once. It gif me ze great work.”

“Well, don’t worry about that any more, my girl. We need you right here at Merry Home.”

Inza was calling to him, and Frank hastened up the steps.

“I didn’t expect you’d be able to come so soon, Frank,” said his wife, as he drew his chair close to hers.

“Oh, I arranged it to get off early this forenoon. Hodge has been helping me. Diamond and Browning are still hard at work keeping the boys pegging away.”

“Everything is going well at the school?”

“Things couldn’t go better. I don’t know a boy who hasn’t made great improvement, although some have done far better than others. Each day it seems that they take hold of the work with fresh enthusiasm and energy.”

“You’ve got a great baseball bunch there, Merry,” said Hodge. “I don’t wonder they trimmed everything in their class hereabouts. As a pitcher, that fellow Sparkfair is the real article.”

Frank nodded.

“You’re right. Sparkfair is a wonder.”

“But I can’t quite fathom him,” confessed Hodge. “If ever I saw a deceptive young scoundrel, it’s that chap. At times he’s so meek and modest that he dazes me. At other times he’s so flippant and forward that I want to collar him and shake him out of his clothes. I wouldn’t know how to deal with him, Frank.”

“In some respects it was a problem with me,” confessed Merry; “but fortunately I struck on the proper course. Once I found out how to manage, it was not hard to handle Sparkfair. He raised a lot of dust when he first landed at Farnham Hall. It didn’t take him long to get arrested as a highwayman, and right on top of that I had to kill a fine horse in order to keep the horse from killing Sparkfair. He’s as full of queer quirks and unexpected moves as an egg is full of meat. If there’s a practical joke perpetrated, I generally look for Sparkfair at the bottom of it. About nine times out of ten I find him there. Still, he’s not malicious, and in a case of emergency I believe I can depend upon him to be on the right side. For instance, when the boys started a rebellion against manual labor Sparkfair refused to join them, and it was his scheme that put a prompt and ludicrous end to the rebellion.”

“I think he’s a splendid boy,” said Inza. “I took a liking to him the first time I saw him.”

“He’s done a great deal in the way of helping young Joe Crowfoot along,” said Frank.

“There’s another marvel!” exclaimed Bart. “If any one except you were to tell me that your Indian boy has made such astonishing progress from savagery to civilization in such a brief time, I’d disbelieve the yarn. I’ve been giving him points on his work behind the bat. He grasps everything almost instantly.”

“He’s remarkably apt,” nodded Merriwell. “With his whole soul he’s determined to learn everything the white man can teach him. Old Joe swore the boy to this obedience, and young Joe has never faltered or hesitated. Still, I know he is sometimes consumed with a longing for the wild life that’s natural to one of his race. At times he wanders alone in the fields and woods. He takes pleasure in following the trail of any wild animal if he happens to find such a track. As a trailer, I believe he’s almost as wonderful as a bloodhound.”

The conversation wandered on to other topics, and finally Inza spoke of the wedding gift to Bart and Elsie. Hodge seemed quite overcome and unable to express himself.

“Not a word, old fellow!” cried Frank, glancing at his watch and rising quickly. “Come on if you’re going into town with me.”

“Are you going into town?” asked Inza.

“Oh, we won’t be gone long,” smiled Merry. “It’s a little matter that requires attention. Perhaps we’ll bring back a surprise.”

“Oh, now you’ve aroused my curiosity!”

“I intended to.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me what it is?”

“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“But I can’t wait.”

“Just like a woman,” chuckled Merry. “Give them a hint of a surprise in store for them, and they’ll badger you to death until they spoil the surprise. Let’s take flight, Bart. Let’s get away before the girls coax it out of us.”

He snatched a kiss and sprang down the steps, followed by Hodge.

“I think you’re real mean!” cried Inza. “You just wait and see if I don’t play it back on you! I’ll have a secret some time and keep it from you!”

“Impossible!” said Merry. “No woman ever kept a secret.”

“Especially from her husband,” put in Hodge.

“Oh, you’ll see–you’ll see!” threatened Inza.

But the two laughing young men disappeared round the corner.

“Now, I’d just give anything in the world to know what they’re up to,” said Inza. “Aren’t you dying to know, Elsie?”

“I am, but still I think I’ll survive,” was the answer.

Proceeding to the stable, Merry called Toots, who promptly appeared, jerking off his cap and bowing as he showed his teeth in a grin.

“How’d do, Marsa Frank–good mawnin’, sah,” he said. “How’d do, Mist’ Hodge? What ken Ah do fo’ yo’ dis lubly mawnin’?”

“Hitch the span into the surrey,” said Merry. “I want you to drive us to the station.”

While the colored man was hitching up, Frank and Bart talked.

“I heard some of the things you were saying to that French nurse girl, Merry,” said Hodge. “You seem to have an idea that you’ve seen her before.”