The look on Frank’s face was one of quiet confidence, and it seemed to anger the boy more than words, for it plainly told him that Merry had not the least doubt about succeeding in his object.
Still into Dick’s mind there had crept a fear that somehow this handsome, confident brother of his possessed strength of will sufficient to conquer him, and this thought made him desperate, so that he was tempted to exhaust his powers of resistance, just as a wild bird beats out its strength against the iron bars of its cage.
“You may go now, Dick,” said Merry quietly.
The boy did not stir, but stood there looking at him with those defiant black eyes.
Merry, however, sat down and resumed his writing, just as if Dick had left the room; nor did he give the lad the least attention.
After a time the boy stole silently out of the room, and, despite himself, into his heart there stole a sense of defeat—a growing knowledge that he had encountered a master mind.
CHAPTER XVI.
DICK AND OLD JOE.
Having been reared in that wild section, and permitted to have his own way in almost everything, Dick Merriwell had developed into a high-spirited lad who fretted like an unbroken mustang beneath the bit of restraint. To him the thought of giving in to the will of another was repugnant, even though the wishes and plans of that other might be for his own good.
Little did he know that, to a certain extent, the evidences of pride and spirit he had betrayed had given his brother considerable satisfaction. Little did he know that he had convinced Frank that there was in him the making of something out of the ordinary.
Such, however, was the case. Frank would have been keenly disappointed had he found his brother lacking in spirit and determination. Having found the boy as he was, Merry was studying him and seeking to discover the best manner to successfully lead Dick on to his own good. Merry realized that the task might prove rather difficult, but this gave it all the more fascination and interest for him.