“Where’s the driver?” was the cry.
But the wearer of the false whiskers had found an opportunity to slip away and improved it.
* * * * *
The little church was beautifully decorated and fragrant with flowers. It was well filled. There was a hush. The organ began to throb and a thrill ran over every person present.
Down one of the aisles slowly advanced the minister, carrying a little book in his hands. At a distance behind him came Frank Merriwell, looking handsomer than ever before in his life, accompanied by the best man, his bosom friend, Bart Hodge.
Merry’s heart was beating high with the mighty exultation of the grandest moment of his life. He turned with Bart and followed the minister toward the altar.
Suddenly the sound of the organ changed. The music became the “Wedding March.”
Down the centre aisle came a vision of loveliness, Inza Burrage in snowy white, with her veil flowing round her. She was somewhat pale, but never had she looked sweeter, and a more bridelike bride-to-be the sun could not shine on.
She was followed by a pretty girl friend, who was acting as bridesmaid. Elsie Bellwood was not there. That was the only thing that marred the occasion.