“You do not understand,” he slowly murmured. “I’d like to have a talk with you, Frank. I—I might tell you——”
“That’s right,” said Harry, heartily. “Old friends like you chaps want a chance to talk over old matters and things. Excuse us. We’re going to find a chance to stretch our weary limbs on the ground. Browning has an attack of that tired feeling, and he will fall asleep in his tracks if he doesn’t recline without delay.”
“Huah!” grunted Bruce.
Then the boys withdrew, leaving Hodge and Merriwell together.
Bart seemed embarrassed and uneasy. He glanced at Frank slyly, as if in doubt, which Merry did not fail to note, although pretending not to observe it.
They sat down near the foot of a monster tree, against which they could lean in a comfortable position as they chatted. The great forest of redwood trees was all about them, and a Sabbath peace brooded over the gentle slope of the Sierras.
“Well, Bart,” said Frank, insinuatingly, “I trust things are going well with you?”
A sudden change came over Hodge. A fierce look of rage came to his face and his eyes blazed, while his voice was harsh and unpleasant, as he cried:
“Things are not going well with me! Everything has gone wrong! Oh, I’ve had infernal luck! I know I was born under an unlucky star, and the only time I ever did get along was when you and I were together at Fardale.”
“Then stick by me, and change your luck again.”