“Alas!” sighed Ready, “old Yale will not seem like it used to be, now that Merry has taken himself hence, his radiant brow wreathed in undying laurels.”
“I’m glad I’m through,” asserted Bart. “I couldn’t stay there another year.”
“It’ll be hard on me,” confessed Jack. “But I’ll have to stand it. There is one satisfaction in the thought that there will be no one in Yale to dispute my claim to the honor of being the most beautiful and highly intellectual chap on the campus. But the football-games—oh, my! And the baseball-games—oh, me! What will they be without Merry? Oh, Lud! I shall think with breaking heart of the days gone by, when the only and original Frank Merriwell reigned. I shall listen in vain for the acclaiming populace to thunder forth his name. Nevermore! ah, nevermore!”
Then, as Jack pretended to weep, there came a sudden and startling interruption. There was a clatter of hoofs, a shout, and a cry of warning.
They started and turned. Bearing down upon them was a wild-eyed steer, and, astride the back of the animal, they saw Dick Merriwell!
“Look out! Jump!” cried Frank, as, with lowered head, the frightened steer charged straight for the fire.
“Make way for the gentleman!” cried Ready, scrambling aside in ludicrous haste.
Bart Hodge got out of the way without a word.
And right through the smoke, leaping over the fire, went the steer, while a wild peal of laughter came from the lips of the daredevil boy astride the back of the creature.
“Oh, ha! ha! ha! ha!” shouted the lad. “Ha! ha! ha! Ha! ha! ha!”