And Bruce Browning—big, lazy, useless Bruce—was at their head!
“Hooray!” he roared.
Then he caught Frank in his arms and gave him a regular bear-hug, while the crowd gathered and pressed around.
“Oh, Betsey!” shouted the giant senior, as he held Frank off and looked at him; “but you may bet your sweet life we are glad to see you, old man!”
They grasped his hands and shook them, coming forward one after another, even if they had to fight to reach him. They laughed and shouted and rejoiced.
“He’s here!” they told each other, gleefully, and when they could not shake hands with Frank they shook hands with each other. “Now we’re all right!” they declared. “Just see if he does not stir things up!”
From somewhere Jack Ready bobbed up and wormed his way into the crowd till he reached Frank, loudly commanding all to stand back and make room for him.
“I salute you!” he cried, making some grotesque movements with his hands. “Oh, great and mighty potentate, we have missed you, yes, we’ve missed you! In sooth, we have been getting into a very bad way without you. Give us a wag of your fin, salubrious one. Ah-ha! ‘Richard is himself again!’”
Then he smote himself violently on the chest with his clenched fist and immediately fell to coughing.
“The same old Jack!” laughed Merry.