So he walked out at the head of the party, straight as an Indian, stepping off with a brisk pace, apparently as well as ever. His appearance created unbounded astonishment, for it had been believed that he was entirely “done up.”
“What’s the matter with him, anyhow?”
“He’s a healthy-looking sick man!”
“He’s as well as ever!”
“Somebody has been playing a slick game!”
These were the exclamations. One fellow cried:
“Fellows, the cat is out! Merriwell wasn’t hurt at all! The whole business was a fake to fool Harvard! He’s fooled her, too, and Yale will win to-day!”
Frank laughed outright. Everything was moving finely.
“Talk about your clever tricks!” shouted a voice. “This beats ’em all! Hurrah for Frank Merriwell!”
They cheered, and Frank walked steadily through their midst to the cab, which he entered, his grip and overcoat being tossed in after him. Diamond, Browning, and Rattleton followed, and the cab rolled away.