“I’d like to explain,” Frank continued gloomily, “that Jode got into the ball game because Darrel and I begged him to. If there was any deception, Darrel and I are responsible for it.”
“I suppose that Jode is sending you to me with all this talk,” commented the colonel. “It would be like him.”
“He has nothing to do with it, colonel,” protested Frank. “In fact, he says he doesn’t want to curry any favor with you. He says you did exactly right to set him adrift, and that, from now on, he intends to make his own way in the world and stand on his own feet. He doesn’t want any help from you.”
“That’s a very laudable purpose—if Jode really means what he says. But—you never can tell about that. I’ve had enough of the young cub.”
“He means what he says now, colonel,” averred Frank earnestly, hating to give up championing Lenning’s cause.
“It’s my opinion that you’re wrong in thinking that. It’s also my opinion that you’re showing very poor judgment, as well as a very generous and forgiving nature, by having anything whatever to do with Jode. You’ll be sorry, I fear, before you’re done with that scapegrace.”
“Merriwell’s judgment,” suggested Mr. Bradlaugh, “has proved to be pretty good since he has been with us.”
“I’ll agree with you there, Brad,” nodded the colonel; “but,” and he laughed, “there’s always got to be a first time when a fellow’s judgment goes wrong.”
“You ought to make Merriwell feel good over this Lenning affair before he leaves Ophir, colonel,” observed Mr. Bradlaugh casually. “It wouldn’t cost you much but a little pinch in your pride.”
“It’s a matter of principle, not pride, with me,” growled Hawtrey. “I’d do a good deal for you, my boy,” he added, turning to Frank, “but you could hardly expect me to break a principle just to make you ‘feel good,’ as Bradlaugh puts it.”