“The door of his room is watched. I have Dustan on guard there. He can’t come out of that room without Dustan seeing him. He won’t get away, Frank. You are cool enough usually, but now——”
“All night I have watched beside the bed of a friend struck down by that devil, not knowing but that friend might die before morning. All my coolness was eaten away by the fury that gnawed at my heart. Sometimes I believe I would have killed Flynn without hesitation had I been able to reach him.”
Something like satisfaction filled the heart of Jack Diamond, for Merriwell’s general coolness and self-control had been exasperating to him more than once. He had felt that Frank was altogether too cool under exasperating circumstances, and he had almost doubted that the great Yale pitcher could be stirred and utterly controlled by his passions. Now, however, he saw that, for once at least, Frank Merriwell was betraying the same emotions any other fellow in his position might feel, and that gave Diamond absolute pleasure.
It seemed strange to the hot-blooded Virginian to be counseling caution and doing all in his power to hold Frank in check. It was a novel experience, and he realized that such a thing was not likely to happen again, so he made the most of it.
“The proper officers are waiting in the office of the hotel, Frank,” said Jack, quietly.
“What officers?”
“A lawyer, and——”
“What do I want of a lawyer now?”
“Why, you must have a warrant. The sheriff is there, also, and he will be able to serve the warrant as soon as you swear it out. I could have done this, but I thought it best to leave it all to you.”
“That was right,” said Frank, a change coming over him—a change that was so sudden that it startled Jack, for Merry seemed to suddenly become as cool as ice. “You have done well, Diamond. Let’s get to work in short order.”