“Take it from me, Brad.” said he, “Darrel isn’t that kind of a chap. He’s straight goods, and I’ll bet on it.”
When he got back to the camp he found Darrel sitting on a blanket just within the open front of the tent. He was peering off across the cañon, with a thoughtful, almost a sad, look on his face. He turned his head quickly when he heard Frank, and the thoughtfulness and the sadness vanished in a bright smile.
“You needn’t have rushed things on my account, Merriwell,” said he.
“All I wanted was a plunge,” answered Frank, dropping down beside him. “If you were in Gold Hill, even as long as a year ago,” he proceeded, “you must have known that there is a hot rivalry between the athletic club in that town and the one in Ophir.”
A grim expression flashed through Darrel’s eyes.
“Haven’t they got over that, yet?” he asked. “Why can’t they act like good sports instead of a lot of kids? I had a notion that Uncle Alvah——” He bit his words short. “I had a notion,” he finished, “that they’d see what a rotten exhibition they were making of themselves, and get together and play the game as it ought to be played.”
“Probably they will, some time. Just now, though, if you mention Gold Hill in an Ophir crowd, it’s like a spark in a powder magazine. That’s why the fellows suddenly got back of their barriers when you said that you were a Gold Hiller, and had once trained with the Gold Hill Athletic Club.”
“Well, strike me lucky!” grinned Darrel. “It’s plain enough, now. They’re afraid I’m here to do a little dirty work, eh? ’Pon honor, Merriwell, such a thought never entered my noodle. As far as that goes, I doubt whether I’m on very good terms with the Gold Hill bunch. My half brother, Jode Lenning, is a big, high boy among the Gold Hillers, and—and—well, Jode hasn’t much use for me,” Darrel flushed. “Haven’t seen Jode for a year—nor any of the other fellows, for that matter—and I was bound for their camp to see what sort of a reception they’d give me.”
A strained silence fell over the two boys. Darrel was touching upon personal matters, and he was doing it in a way that made Merry uncomfortable.
“You see,” Darrel went on, a touch of sadness again showing in his face, “it’s been a year since I had a home. For more than twelve months I’ve been knocking around the West, and—and——”