Frank sipped his ginger ale, still keenly scanning his companion. Who was this fellow? and what was he driving at? It was plain he knew Merry was going out ahead of the show.
The stranger tossed his rum off at a gulp, following it with a “chaser” of water, and smacking his lips.
“Pretty good stuff, that,” he nodded. “Better’n one can get in most places out in this infernal country. I suppose you start out in the morning?”
Frank nodded.
“Which way you going? I suppose the manager has given you his bookings? Of course, you know all about his route and his plans?”
Again Merry nodded, but that was all.
“I may be traveling your way,” said the stranger. “We can go along together. That will be jolly. Which way did you say you were going?”
“I didn’t say,” answered Merriwell, dryly.
“Oh!”
The voluble stranger seemed brought to a stand for a moment, but he quickly recovered.