“If we do——”
“It will be unfortunate for Lester Vance,” said Merry. “He has reached the limit.”
“By gum!” cried Gallup, staring at Frank. “He wants to keep out of the way naow! When Frank Merriwell looks that way, he’s out fer business.”
Hodge also saw the look on Merry’s face, and he recognized it as the peculiar expression Frank wore whenever his patience was exhausted and he had decided to crush an enemy. And remembering things which had happened in the past, Bart knew well enough that Frank could strike an enemy with terrible effect when he wished to do so.
Frank was on his way to the theater that afternoon, swinging along at a lively pace, paying very little attention to anybody, when somebody called:
“Mr. Merriwell.”
He looked up quickly, and saw approaching him a rather good-looking girl of about nineteen. She was rather gaudily attired, and he noticed instantly that she carried some pinks.
“Great Scott!” muttered Merry. “It’s another one of them!”
He waited, although he really felt like running away. The girl came forward smiling. There was something rather saucy in her manner, and he saw there was paint on her cheeks and rouge on her lips. As soon as he discovered this, his desire to hasten away increased.
“Why,” laughed the girl, “you do not seem a bit glad to see me. Perhaps you did not receive my note.”