“Take poison!”
“We’ll have to eat dirt, or he’ll throw us down.”
“It looks that way.”
Thus it came about that Fowler was almost the first to offer congratulations.
“By Jove, Mr. Merriwell,” he cried, “I’m delighted! You are dead in luck, and you deserve it! It was pretty hard for you to be deserted by Folansbee, in such a sneaking way. I have said all along that you were a remarkably bright man and merited success.”
“That’s right,” put in Harper; “he said so to me last night. We were talking over your hard luck. I congratulate you, Mr. Merriwell. Permit me!”
“Permit me!”
Both Harper and Fowler held out their hands.
Frank looked at the extended hands, but put his own hands in his pockets, laughing softly, somewhat scornfully.
“It is wonderful,” he said, “how many true friends a man can have when he has money, and how few true friends he really has when he doesn’t have a dollar.”