This was true, and this Frank knew was the highest type of courage. The person who never feels fear is brave, but his bravery is not nearly as praiseworthy as that of the one who is frightened, but overcomes his fears by force of will. The first has mere physical courage, but the second is almost certain to possess both moral and physical courage.
Elsie was of the latter class. That she was timid at times cannot be denied, and that she shrank from danger must be confessed; but it is just as true that she could conquer her timidity and shrinking, and compel herself to face peril with steady nerves. There must be, however, some powerful cause to lead her to this point.
Frank paused near the spot where the encounter with the men had taken place. As he did so, he became convinced that a muffled figure was following him. This muffled figure had turned to the other side of the promenade.
All at once, quick as a flash, Merry whirled and darted across, his hand falling on the man’s shoulder.
“I beg your pardon,” he said, “but can you tell me———— Hello! I thought so!”
For he had obtained a fair look at the man’s face, and he saw it was that of his assailant on Broadway.
This person glared at Frank, hatred filling his eyes.
“So you are following me about!” said Merriwell resentfully. “Well, it’s becoming rather tiresome. Bought an overcoat since chasing me over to Brooklyn, I see. I suppose you fancied that would be disguise enough to fool me. Now, wait a minute; I have a question to ask you. What the dickens do you want of me?”
“I want—your life!” was the panting retort. “And I mean to have it!”
Then the pursuer grappled with Merry.