Merriwell leaned against a tree and dropped his chin thoughtfully into his hand. He wasn’t more than two minutes in coming to a conclusion.
“I’m going to Gold Hill,” he announced, “and I’ll start right after dinner.”
“That means you’re going to beard the colonel in his den,” said Clancy. “Want me along as a bodyguard?”
“And me?” asked Ballard.
“No, Pink, I don’t want you, or Clan, or any one else,” Merry answered. “I intend to handle this alone.”
“That’s the stuff!” approved Brad. “You can do more, all by your lonesome, than with half a dozen fellows trailing after you. Hawtrey has a heap of respect for you, Chip. His admiration for your father has something to do with the way he sizes you up, I reckon. He knows you’re a chip of the old block, and a square sportsman from soles to headpiece. If anybody can talk to him about Jode, and get away with it, you’re the one.”
“Well, that’s the program,” said Merriwell grimly, “whether I’m the one or not. When I get after Jode I’m going to handle him without gloves.”
“What will Darrel think about it?” inquired Ballard.
“Search me. I think, though, that he’ll take it all right. Lenning’s actions have reached a point where they’ve got to receive immediate attention.”
Following breakfast, that morning, Frank and his chums, under Professor Phineas Borrodaile’s supervision, took up their studies for the forenoon. No matter what was going on, the professor insisted relentlessly on the three lads applying themselves to their books for the first half of the day.