A greenish light came into Joe Hooker’s eyes.
“Are you in love with him?” he sneered. “Are you struck on him, Daisy?”
“If I was,” she answered, defiantly, “I’d be struck on a man!”
“By blazes! I believe ye are!”
“I won’t see you do your mean work!” she panted. “You were to blame in the first place, and you know it! He met you like a man, and, because he was your master, now you have plotted to disgrace him this way. Shame!”
“You’re a fool, Daisy!” hissed Joe Hooker.
“I’ve been a fool to have anything to do with you!” she flung back. “I am done. From this night I’ll never speak to you again!”
“Oh, ye won’t!”
“No! I have seen the difference between a real man and a common fellow who swaggers and blusters. Frank Merriwell is a man.”
“Now I wouldn’t let him off to save my life!” snarled Joe, all the jealousy of his nature aroused. “You are struck on him! He shall have a double coat!”