But there was a shadow hanging over the company. Havener was changed. He had grown sullen and touchy, and he treated Cassie with a mingling of cold contempt and burning love that was bewildering to the girl. He scarcely ever spoke to Merriwell, unless absolutely forced to do so.
Then the story got out that Havener had purchased a revolver. One night he sat in the office of a wretched little hotel and talked queerly. He said life had been an utter failure with him, and he was sick of it. He said that the world was full of deception and all women were liars. He had been fooled once by a woman, and he didn't mean to be fooled again.
"Havener is ill," declared those who heard his queer talk. "He's in need of a tonic."
The next morning Frank Merriwell rose early and went out to take a walk. He was surprised when he came downstairs to find Cassie Lee dressed and prepared to go out also.
"Why, what does this mean?" he asked. "I thought you always stayed in bed as late as possible?"
"Used to," she laughed. "Don't now. Had to have something for a stimulant when I knocked off the other thing, so I've been going in for fresh air, morning walks, exercise and all that. I find it's doing me good, too."
"Of course it is! Nine actresses out of ten get too little good open-air exercise. If you're for a walk, come with me."
"All right. That will be jolly."
Away they went together.
And they were not the only ones who had risen early that morning. Roscoe Havener, unable to sleep, was up ahead of them and out of the hotel. He tramped fiercely out of the town to a little valley through which ran a brook. There was some timber about, and he sat down beside a brook. After a time he took out his revolver and looked it over. It was loaded.