Next moment the door was thrown open, and Frank himself stood before them, with both hands extended to bid them welcome.
CHAPTER III.--THE BOYS' LIFE IN LONDON.
"Cousin Frank!"
"That's me. And how are you, cousins Conal and Duncan? We're only far-off cousins, but that doesn't matter, does it? I'm jolly glad to see you, anyhow. You'll bring some life into this dull old hole; and I'll find some fun for you, you bet."
"Did you ask if we betted?" said Duncan, smiling, but serious. "We wouldn't be allowed to."
"No, no. 'You bet' is just an expression; for, mind you, everybody speaks slang nowadays in town. Oh, I don't bet--as a rule, though I did have a pony on the Oxford and Cambridge last race."
"And did the pony win?" asked Conal, naïvely.
"Eh? What? Ha, ha, ha! Why, it's a boat race, and a pony is a fiver. I'd saved the cash for a year, and like a fool I blewed it at last."
Well, if Frank Trelawney was not very much to look at as regards body, he was frank and open, with a handsome English face, all too pale, however, and he seemed to have more worldly wisdom in his noddle than Duncan, Conal, and Viking all put together.
After talking a little longer to our Highland heroes Frank knelt down and threw his arms around the great dog's neck, and Viking condescended to lick his cheek.