Inza gave Frank a grateful look and soon found an opportunity to whisper to him:
“I knew you could do him good. You always have a way of putting new life and courage into anyone.”
He smiled at her.
“You should hear the wonderful things Inza has been telling me about you, Merriwell,” said Walter. “Why, if she has not been romancing, you are the most wonderful fellow in the whole world.”
“Not that,” declared Merry.
“But you are a wonderful athlete, and your fame has spread over the country. Yale must be proud of you. But it was the only thing to expect from Frank Merriwell, of Fardale. I remember that you were constantly at work building yourself up and trying to become physically perfect. Nor did you spend your whole time at this to the neglect of your studies, but you never wasted time—you were forever doing something.”
“That’s the secret of success,” smiled Merry quietly. “The fellow who wastes his time wastes his chance of success. Prize-fighters have muscular development, but usually little mental development. The perfect man seeks both by giving his body and his mind just the proper amount of work and rest.”
“By Jove!” cried Walter, his eyes flashing; “you should be a teacher of your theories, Merriwell. I believe you could do an immense amount of good in the world.”
“Yes, yes,” murmured the sick man, “I believe so, too. If I had known what to do when I was young, if I had built my body up properly, I’d not be here to-day, a wretched, worn-out invalid. It was ignorance that brought me where I am.”
Frank felt that Mr. Burrage spoke the simple truth. He was a man grown old and broken down before his time—a piece of machinery out of repair. And all because he had not in early life built himself up properly to withstand the strain that came upon him in later years.