One of the boys in the crowd saw a friend on the opposite side of the street, and yelled:
"Hey, Charley, get a wiggle on an' come over here! W'at yer t'ink! Ther cop has nabbed that feller we've been readin' about—Frank Merriwell!"
"Aw! w'at yer givin' us!" flung back the other.
"This ain't no fust of April!"
"It's dead straight, Charley! Frank Merriwell is right
here in ther Thorndike, an' Old Briggs has pinched him. Don't yer want ter see him?"
"Don't I?" gasped the one across the street, as he bolted from the sidewalk. "I'd rudder see Frank Merriwell than have a season ticket to der ball games!"
And he could not get over quick enough.
By the time the officer was ready to bring Frank out of the hotel, all the men and boys outside knew who had been arrested, and the excitement was great. The crowd grew swiftly, and everybody was eager to get a look at the Yale athlete of whom they had heard such wonderful stories.
The young men of the town were no less excited than the boys. There was scarcely one of them who did not know something about Frank Merriwell and his record, and, even before they could find out why he had been arrested, they denounced the arrest as an outrage.