Frank Merriwell's First Job; Or, At the Foot of the Ladder

by Burt L. Standish

Not many persons in Bloomfield were well acquainted with Frank. They had known his crusty old uncle, who had few friends, and it was but natural for them to fancy that the nephew must be somewhat like the uncle, therefore they had not desired his acquaintance. Frank was glad of this, as he approached the place he had called home, for he thought there would not be so many persons to express condolence and ask questions.

He sat alone in the car as the train flew through the twilight and night came down over the brown world. It was a beautiful world. He realized that as he gazed sadly out of the window, but now he, who a short time before had been surrounded by so many friends, felt like an outcast and a wanderer on the face of the earth.

In his bosom was a swelling homesickness for dear old Yale and the friends he had left. He had been torn in one moment almost from those friends and the associations that had become so dear to him. Just when life was looking the fairest the blow had fallen.

Some hearts might have been numbed, some spirits might have been broken; not so with Frank Merriwell. For one moment the thought that life really was not worth living forced itself in upon him, and then he banished it in haste and shame.

He looked up at the sky as the train sped along. High up the clouds had a dull, leaden hue, and were somber and gloomy. Lower down they grew lighter and tinged with color, till they lay bright and golden on the western horizon. It seemed to Frank that the black clouds overshadowing him now must give way to golden ones in the future.

It is the stout heart that looks forward to a bright future that finds real happiness in life.

Merry realized that the time had come when he must fight his own way in the world. It had come suddenly and unexpectedly, and had not found him fully prepared for the emergency, but, nevertheless, he faced it without flinching.

Now he remembered how for some time he had been troubled by a foreboding of impending calamity. It had made him moody and so much unlike his usual gay self that his friends had wondered.

When they had started to plan what they would do on the return of another summer vacation, he had stopped them, saying the circle might be broken before that time.

He had been determined to study hard and fit himself for graduation on his return to college, and not even the influence of his many friends could have changed that determination had he remained in Yale to the end of the course.