“Pwhat are yez doin’, man? Be ye crazy? Shtand still, or, begorra, Oi’ll fan yez wid me shtick!”
It was useless to try to explain. By the time Merry had made the officer understand, the murderous wretch was safely out of the way.
Only a glimpse had Frank obtained of the fleeing figure of his would-be murderer, but he was satisfied that it must be the man who had assaulted him on Broadway.
“He must be a revengeful dog,” thought Merry. “He came near getting me under those wheels, too. I’ll have to be on my guard. If he is so determined, he’ll not be satisfied to let it drop now.”
Merry took a car for Brooklyn, but he might have spared himself the trouble, for, thinking he had already returned to New Haven, Inza and her father had departed without communicating with him.
The failure to see Inza proved a severe disappointment to Merry, and he resolved to walk off the feeling that had attacked him. Therefore, instead of taking a car, he walked to the Bridge.
It was beginning to get dark, and lights were gleaming from the thousands of windows in the tall buildings across the river when Merry sauntered out on to the promenade.
The wind was not strong enough to be disagreeable, but he felt the cold out there on the Bridge, and the crisp air gave him a sensation of pleasure and briskness which he desired.
All at once he remembered that the last time he had walked on this bridge Elsie was with him, and she had saved him from being flung over in front of a car by her bravery in fighting the men who had set upon him. Thoughts of this thrilled him through and through.
“Dear little Elsie!” he murmured, pausing and looking about. “I would you were with me now! You do not know it, but you are just as brave as the bravest. There are times when you shrink from danger, appalled by the thought of it, but always, at the supreme moment, your bravery overcomes your timidness and you are bold as a lioness at bay.”