“I presume you are ready to take the word of these strangers against me!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t think that of you, but——”
“If this is Frank Merriwell, why shouldn’t we take his word?”
“How do you know he is Frank Merriwell?” demanded Rolf.
“I can prove that with ease,” smiled Frank, thrusting his hand into his pocket and pulling forth some letters. “Here is some of my correspondence, here is my card, and here is my name and address on this key check. If you want further proof, gentlemen, I can show you my name marked upon my clothes.”
“That is quite enough,” assured Spencer. “We are satisfied that you are what you represent yourself to be. And now will you be good enough to tell us the meaning of this struggle here on the bank?”
“With pleasure,” bowed Frank. “My friend here, Jack Diamond, a Virginian born and bred, asked me to leave the road over yonder and come here, where he could show me a pretty view of the Potomac. We locked our bicycles to a tree, where it was not likely they would be seen, and came this way. As we approached, we saw this chap in flannels standing on the bank and shouting his orders to your crew. Curiosity brought us nearer, and then we heard him talking with another chap who was hidden in the bushes where he could watch your work. From what we overheard——”
It was getting too hot for Harlow, and he interrupted Frank.
“It is plain to me,” he cried, “that you are ready to take the word of a stranger instead of mine, and that is too much for me to stand. That being the case, I’ll leave you with your new friends.”
He was about to hurry from the spot, but Frank checked him.
“Hold on, Harlow,” he said, suavely. “I have your revolver, you know.”