“That’s enough!” Bart hissed. “I understand you, Frank Merriwell. You—you, who have pretended to be my friend—you have called me a criminal to my face. Ha, ha, ha! I didn’t think it would come to that. Never mind. I understand it all now. For all of our apparent friendship, I know now that you have doubted me deep down in your heart. You have not wanted to doubt me, but you could not help it, and so——”
Frank started toward Bart, his hand outstretched protestingly, crying:
“Stop! Has it come to this between us?”
“Yes, it has come to this!” snarled the angry, unreasoning youth. “Didn’t you know it would? Didn’t you know I was a worthless fellow? Oh, yes, you knew it.”
“Have you forgotten——”
“Nothing. I have not forgotten what you have done for me, but I am sorry you ever did it. You have chosen between me and Havener.”
“You are wrong in——”
“I will not take a call down from any man living!” shouted Bart. “Havener called me down. Havener is your stage manager. He fined me. If you do not stand by him, go out there and tell him he must apologize to me—tell him he must retract that fine.”
Hodge had not thought of making such a demand when he entered the dressing room, but his anger had led him on blindly till now reason was quite smothered by passion.
“I do not know the facts of the case,” said Frank.