Frank had moved from old South Middle to Farnham Hall, doing so because he could not find accommodations in the old building for all his furniture and bric-a-brac.
Now he approached Farnham with his head down. It was dark, but, as he came near, he saw some person was sitting on the steps, smoking.
“Wonder who is out here at this time of night?” thought Frank. “Some fellow must have insomnia.”
He reached the steps. Then the person who had been sitting there stood up and peered into his face.
“Hello, Merriwell!” exclaimed a triumphant, malignant voice. “I thought it was you. Been out rather late, haven’t you?”
Frank staggered as if he had been struck a heavy blow in the face.
The voice was that of Digby Rudge, the proctor!
CHAPTER XXXIII.
JOYFUL NEWS.
Frank came near shouting his astonishment. At first he scarcely could believe the evidence of his senses.