“Where’s Riddle?”
“Nobody knows. He didn’t stay at our hotel last night, and Haley was not able to find him in town. He suddenly and mysteriously disappeared. There is something queer about this business, Merriwell.”
“I scent a mystery!” cried Frank. “Mysteries always interest me. Wish I had time to solve this one.”
“Well, don’t let it bother you. Here comes the train. Remember your instructions. Of course, you know just how the company stands, but Haley is holding fast to Hawkins, and the old man will be able to work the ‘angel’ if we get into another hard place. We must strike better business soon, and I guess we’ll pull out all right.”
A short time later, Frank was seated on the train, waving a farewell from the window to his two friends and the stage-manager.
Hans and Ephraim stood side by side in solemn sorrow, one tall, lank, angular, the other short, stout, rotund. They presented a strong contrast, and Merry could not help smiling a bit. Then came a thought that saddened him somewhat. He could see there was a big change in himself since the old, rollicking days at Fardale—he could feel it. He had been forced to face the world and battle for bread, and the circumstances and his advance in years had wrought the change. He was no longer a thoughtless boy; he felt the blood and vigor of dawning manhood in his veins. Boyish things were past. Still he could enjoy fun as well as ever, but the time when he was continually planning and carrying into execution practical jokes was gone.
Frank believed that Hans and Ephraim saw the change in him. Still he was sure their affection for him was as strong and enduring as ever.
They, too, had changed somewhat, for they had been forced, like Frank, to win their way in the world.
Thinking it all over, Merry did not long to go back to his boyhood days, pleasant though they had been. He realized that he was enjoying life as he had never before enjoyed it. The battles, the rebuffs, the triumphs, they were something, worth living for, and they gave such a pleasure to existence that it took away all regrets for his lost boyhood.
Then he thought of Yale—dear old Yale! Then a pang of regret shot through his heart, for he had not completed his college course—he had not graduated with honors, as he had believed he some day should.