Above the bank there was grass on the ground, so the feet of two lads walking along there made no sound. They halted in amazement, looking down at the girls.
Hattie had placed her arm about her friend, and was trying to comfort her, saying swiftly:
“The wretch! How did he dare say it! He has broken your heart, Mabel! How can fellows be so mean!”
“It is Miss Mischief and Miss Hazle, Bart,” said Frank Merriwell. “Somebody has insulted them.”
“I’d like to punch the head of the fellow who would dare!” growled Hodge.
They heard him and looked up quickly. Then the boys were in a quandary, not knowing exactly what to do.
“We must pretend we did not know she was crying,” said Frank. “We must go down there, Bart.”
He whispered the words, and Hodge nodded. So they descended the bank, greeting the girls cheerfully.
“We have been looking for you,” declared Frank. “How fortunate we found you!”
“Yes, very fortunate,” said Hattie, a strange inflection in her voice. “We have something to say to you—something we wish you to tell a particular friend of yours.”