At first the boy had not understood how fortunate he was in having such a brother and friend, but, little by little, his eyes had been opened, and at last he was coming to know just what it meant. Dick had been frivolous to a certain extent, and he had seemed wild and untamable; but his journey from the Rockies to the Atlantic coast had opened his eyes and filled him with respect for Frank. He had found that Frank was known everywhere, and that by the youth of the United States he was regarded as a model young American.
This knowledge had brought about something of a change in Dick, in whose heart was born a desire to emulate his brother and become like him, in some degree, at least. And the lad’s modesty—which at first he had not seemed to possess in any degree—had led him to doubt his ability to ever rise to the heights attained by Frank.
At one time Old Joe had sought to turn Dick against Frank, being consumed by the belief that Merriwell meant to carry the boy away where they would never meet again; but Merry had found a way to conquer the jealous Indian, and Crowfoot became one of his greatest admirers. Then it was that the Indian had said to Dick:
"Do what um broder, Steady Hand, say for um to do. Him know best. Him got heap big head, all right. Ugh! Him heap mighty young white chief."
And these words of the old Indian had been, to a great extent, instrumental in the change that came over the lad. Not that Dick was able to at once fling off all his wild ways; not that he became immediately sober and serious. Far from it. He was still a boy, with a boy’s love of sport and play and pranks. The advent at Fardale had cast him into a life far different from anything to which he had been accustomed, and for a time he had seemed reserved and distant, which led many to think him haughty and overbearing.
In time they were to learn that he was anything but haughty. In time, when he came to know them better and they to understand him, they were to find in Dick Merriwell a frank, honest, companionable, whole-souled, fun-loving boy, who would make friends and keep them.
Already Dick had made a few stanch friends. Hugh Douglass, one of his roommates, an uncouth, farmerish plebe, was one of these. Douglass had seen beneath the surface, and he was convinced that Dick was all right.
Brad Buckhart, "the Texan Maverick," as he delighted to call himself, was another friend Dick had found. At first Buckhart did not take to young Merriwell, but a change quickly came over him when he found Dick beset by envious and jealous enemies, and the breezy chap from the Lone Star State soon evinced a hot desire to fight for Dick on the slightest provocation.
And now, since Dick had astonished everybody by his amazing work in the game against White Academy, scores of fellows were praising him, and many who had held aloof were willing to know him and become friendly. But Dick did not like to be patronized, and he found that the men of the classes above him were inclined to praise him in a manner that was not wholly unoffensive. Some of them had a way of speaking compliments as if they were patting a precocious boy on the head and offering him a penny.
This caused Dick to shun them still more, and thus it came about that he was thought "stuck up." His enemies knew how to make capital of this, and they did not lose the opportunity to do so.