And Higgins still wandered in his mind when Frank left him.
The boys made great speed on the road to San Francisco, which they reached in due time, and there, with the other mail that awaited him, Frank found a brief letter from Isa Isban.
“I wish to let you know what the physicians who have examined Bill Higgins have to say,” she wrote. “They say he has lost his memory, and, although he may recover from the injury otherwise, it is doubtful if he will ever regain his memory. In that case, Hodge is safe anywhere, but it will be well for him to get out of California.”
The news was gratifying to Hodge, and he lost no time in disappearing from view.
The arrival of the bicycle boys in San Francisco was the cause of two celebrations, one among themselves and another among their friends in the East.
The tour across the continent had been a success, and the papers were loud in their praise of plucky Frank Merriwell and his companions.
“And now we can take it easy,” said Bruce, lazily.
“That’s Bruce,” laughed Diamond. “Always willing to take a rest.”
“Dunno but wot we hab earned a rest,” put in Toots.
“Doking snownuts—no, smoking doughnuts! what a lot of adventures we have had since we left New York!” came from Harry. “Any of us could write a book of travels without half trying.”