But the man who had robbed him of his fortune had not prospered. For a long time the sword of justice had been suspended over Darius Conrad’s head, and it had seemed that it would never fall. The unscrupulous rascal had gone on his wicked way unmolested till the tide turned against him.
Then his downward course had been swift and the end awful. His ill-gotten gains melted away, and the man who had been rich and the ruling power of the Blue Mountain Railroad at last stood face to face with ruin.
Then came another thought that added to his heartsore feeling. Ephraim Gallup had brought him unpleasant news of Elsie Bellwood. Her father was dead, and Elsie was alone in the world, save for some not very closely connected relatives.
Poor Elsie! Thrown on her own resources, she must find the struggle hard and trying. He did not even know her address, so he could not write to her.
Had fate parted them forever?
That thought was maddening. He would not believe anything so cruel had happened. Some time he would find his little, blue-eyed sweetheart, and then they would be parted never again.
Frank was musing thus when a man came out of the smoker and dropped into the seat at his side, coolly observing:
“Fine morning, Merriwell.”
Frank looked up quickly.
“Riddle!” he exclaimed.