The fellow was only too glad to get off in that manner, and he hastily slunk to the door.
There he paused and looked around. His eyes met those of Frank Merriwell, and the look he gave was pregnant with malignant hatred of the most murderous nature.
The Midwestern lost little time in calling a meeting for the purpose of considering Darleton’s case. In short order the fellow was declared expelled in disgrace from the organization. Following this, it was agreed that Frank Merriwell should be tendered a vote of thanks for his service to the club.
The outcome of the affair gave all of Merry’s friends a feeling of satisfaction, for they believed that the scoundrel had received his just deserts.
Bart Hodge expressed a feeling of intense regret because he had not been present to witness Darleton’s humiliation.
“I sized him up at the start,” declared Bart. “I knew he was a crook, and I knew no crook could defeat Merry.”
That afternoon Frank came face to face with Darleton in front of the post office. The fellow stopped short, the glare of a panther that has been wounded leaping into his eyes.
“You—you—you meddling dog!” he panted huskily.
Frank would have passed on without speaking, but the rascal stepped before him.
“Kindly stand aside,” said Merry. “I don’t wish to soil my hands on you.”