“No,” he huskily said, “no, June! Oh, you don’t know how I felt when I realized what had happened and that you might be hurt! I tried to get up and run after the horse, but I didn’t have the strength. June, you know I—I wouldn’t have harm come to you for anything. You know it! But to have him save you!”
There was no doubting Chester Arlington’s affection for his sister; but his hatred for Dick Merriwell was equally intense.
“My dear brother!” she murmured, gently touching his hair. “Don’t be silly! Don’t worry any more. It’s all right.”
“No, no; all wrong!” he groaned.
CHAPTER III—HAPPINESS AND MISERY
Dick escaped from the crowd and from his friends and took a bath, followed by a brisk rub-down. When this was over, he donned his clothes, feeling pretty well, for all of the game he had played through, for all of his exertions in pursuing the runaway, for all of the bruises received in stopping the frightened horse.
Being in perfect physical condition, he recovered swiftly. His eyes were sparkling and there was a healthy glow in his cheeks as he hurriedly packed his stuff and prepared to take the train that was to carry the triumphant cadets back to Fardale.
He could hear the boys singing in a room across the corridor. The “faithful” were having a high old time. They were packed into that room, their arms locked about one another, howling forth the old songs of their academy, “Fair Fardale,” “The Red and Black,” and “Fardale’s Way.”
“It’s no use moaning, it’s no use groaning,
It’s no use feeling sore;
Keep on staying, keep on playing,
As you’ve done before.
Fight, you sinner; you’re a winner,
If you stick and stay;
Never give in while you’re living—
That is Fardale’s way.”
Dick smiled as he heard this familiar old song roared forth by the lusty-lunged chaps who were rejoicing over the wonderful victory. It gave him a feeling of inexpressible pleasure, and it was something he would never forget as long as he lived.