Frank thrilled when he stood up to receive his sheepskin. There was a choking in his throat, his sensation was a mingled feeling of joy and sorrow that was like exquisite pain. His face was pale as marble. When the certificate was placed in his hand he felt that it was the document that divorced him from dear old Yale, and he sat down with his teeth clenched to hold back the moan that sought vent.
It was over!
That afternoon a man was seen reeling over the Barnesville bridge. He was intoxicated, and he seemed to fancy he was pursued by an enemy or enemies who sought his life. Filled with mad terror, he climbed upon the railing not far from the eastern end of the bridge and flung himself headlong into the river.
Several persons had seen this crazy act, and they rushed to rescue him, if possible. Two men pulled out in a boat toward the spot where he had last been seen. As they pulled he rose to the surface, made a few feeble splashes, and sank.
One of the men stripped off his coat and plunged in. He brought the drowning fellow up, helped the other man get him into the boat, crawled in himself, and they pulled ashore.
On the shore men worked nearly an hour over the poor wretch, but all their efforts were unavailing. He was dead. In his pocket they found some letters, which told them he was a student and that his name was Roland Packard.
And thus it came about that in the pocket of his dead brother Oliver Packard found another envelope that looked exactly like the one Roland had snatched from Merriwell. He was astonished and puzzled, but he took it to Merriwell.
“One of them must contain the message, Merriwell,” said Oliver, whose face was marked with deep sorrow.
“To-morrow will tell,” said Frank, “for then I will open them both.” He took Oliver’s hand. “I am very sorry, Packard,” he said.
“It is for the best,” declared Oliver; but his chin quivered as he turned away.