“Every day.”
“But, you know, you have been so strange—you have taken to going out alone—and—and you haven’t seemed to want anybody to go with you, especially at night. Now, Frank, are you sure you have not been affected by the atmosphere here? Are you sure you think of Elsie as much as you should?”
Frank stared in open-mouthed amazement for some moments, and then he dropped on a chair, bursting into a hearty, ringing laugh.
“By Jove!” he cried. “I didn’t think that was what you were driving at, old man! I didn’t suppose you could really think such a thing of me! Oh, say, it’s too much! And you are all ready to give me a dose of fatherly advice! Oh, ha! ha! ha! Say, this is the funniest thing yet!”
Jack was crimson.
“Don’t!” he pleaded; “don’t laugh at me like that! Those fellows will hear you, and they’ll be rubbering around in a minute! Please don’t laugh, Frank!”
“How can I help it?” gasped Merry, trying to repress his mirth. “It is too ludicrous! And you really thought I must be running after a girl, or girls, because I have acted odd! Oh, Jack!”
“Well, now, you must confess that I had reasons. Rattleton and Browning think so, too.”
“Do they? Well, let them think. It makes no difference to me. I will take the trouble to tell you that nothing of the kind has happened. Don’t be silly, old man. I appreciate all the good advice you were about to give me, but it isn’t needed.”
Diamond felt decidedly awkward, but Frank put him at his ease with a few words. The Virginian apologized, but Merry assured him that apologies were not needed.