Merriwell had again seen the face of the man fairly, and more than before was he certain he had not been acquainted with the fellow in the past. Of course, man and girl were connected somehow, and from the wild words of the desperate stranger Frank inferred that he was in love with her.
That the man also believed Merriwell had somehow done the girl an injury was also certain. He had spoken of Boston, and that set Merry to thinking of the girls he had known there, but try as he might, he could not remember that he had ever met this one there.
“This business is becoming altogether too perplexing,” he confessed to himself, as he swung along on his way over the great bridge. “If I had plenty of time, I might make an attempt to solve it, but I doubt if I’d feel repaid for my pains if I did so. I must go back to New Haven to-morrow. Inza has left, and there is no real reason why I should linger longer. Still, it is a nuisance to have to leave before I find out the name of that girl and just why the man is so anxious to kill me. If I had held him, the truth might have been forced from him.”
He was not molested again during the walk, and he felt that adventures enough for one day had befallen him.
Leaving the Bridge at the New York end, he crossed to Broadway, and was on the point of taking a car, crowded though it was, when a hansom cab without a fare came along. He hailed it, and a minute later he was seated inside, jolting northward.
North-bound cars were packed, and the sidewalks were lined with pedestrians hurrying homeward from their places of business. The cool air fanned Frank’s glowing face and filled his lungs in a grateful way.
This was New York, and to himself Merry confessed that it was the place of places. He had traveled much, had visited hundreds of cities in both hemispheres, had been pleased and fascinated by many other places, but there was something about this great city that attracted him more than any and all others combined. It was a city of rush and roar, of toil and tumult, of poverty and wealth, of squallor and extravagance; it was not a place of peace and gentle pleasures, such as old men enjoy; but in every way it was such a city as fascinated the strong and determined youth who was confident of his prowess and not afraid to meet a hundred rivals all striving for the very goal he sought and desired.
Frank knew this great city had swamped and overwhelmed thousands of ambitious lads who came rushing to it fresh from the country, spurred by ambition and lured by visions of triumphs and glories. He knew there was that in New York which must tempt the weak and wavering, and lead them to disappointment and failure. But he also knew that the steadfast and bold, who possessed ability above the average of their fellow men, could here find opportunities rarely met with elsewhere. If they grasped the opportunity at the right moment, held fast without faltering or doubting themselves for a moment, the reward they longed for must be theirs in the end.
Frank thought of the time soon coming when he would have to face the world and make his way in some business or profession, for, even though his father was a rich man, he was not the kind of youth to be content to live on inherited wealth and be a nobody in the great workaday world.
Thinking thus, the trip up Broadway seemed short indeed. Twenty-third Street was congested where Fifth Avenue and Broadway cross, but the hansom-driver plunged into the mass without hesitation. As a rule, hansom-drivers are most skilled in working their ways through such jams, and there might have been no trouble in this instance but that the horse of another cab, passing in the opposite direction, suddenly bolted, and there was a collision.