“Oh, I can stand another one,” smiled Merry. “Let him come.”
In a few moments there was a rap at the door, and Frank called, “Come in.”
The door opened to admit a rather remarkable-appearing man, with the face of a youth of twenty and the white hair of a man of sixty. He was dressed in the very height of fashion and carried a cane. His smooth cheeks were ruddy with the flush of health, and his blue eyes were clear as an unclouded sky.
“Mr. Merriwell,” he said, advancing as Frank rose, “I beg your pardon, sir; I knew you must be annoyed by the crowds hanging about. I feared you might decline to see me.”
“Mr. Hazard?” questioned Frank pleasantly.
“That is my name.”
“If you had stated your business——”
“I did not for fear you would decline to see me.”
“Is it, then, so unpleasant?”
“Well, I hope not; but I saw by the papers that you intend to play no more baseball this season, and that your team will disband here.”