“Yes you can—I don’t think!”
“He’s a stiff!”
“He’s too stiff for you. He’s a gentleman, and you ain’t in his class. You know it, and that’s what ails you. I don’t propose to waste any more breath on you, for you ain’t worth it.”
And Cassie walked away, leaving Dunton shaking with rage.
“I’d like to wring her neck!” he panted. “I never liked her.”
“Jingoes!” ejaculated Sargent. “Never thought there was so much fire in that pale-faced, washed-out creature. She always reminded me of Kipling’s poem, ‘A rag and a bone and a hank of hair.’ You better keep still about her, Dug, for something makes me think she’d keep her word and shoot you if you said anything about her character. Such girls as she are liable to do such things; and you know you actually do not know anything detrimental to her, except that she is stuck on Havener.”
“Oh, she’s a fool! What makes me the hottest is that she thinks that upstart Merriwell can do me. I’ll show her about that, if I get a chance.”
Dunton was still agitated with anger when it was necessary for him to go on the stage again, and he went through his part in such an indifferent manner that Havener was obliged to speak to him several times. This the stage-manager did quietly, for he saw the actor was “broken up,” and he believed it was because of the calling down he had received.
As for Merriwell, he went through his work with a vim and assurance that simply amazed everybody. This time he seemed to have his lines almost perfectly, and the act went off smoothly so far as he was concerned.
Then the second act was taken up and rushed through. As everyone but Merry had his or her lines almost perfectly, there was no absolute necessity of prompting, and Frank was given a chance to run over his speeches when he was not on the stage. When he did go on, he again astonished them all by the number of lines he could say correctly.