In his wild desire to get away somewhere, Hodge had fancied he must be putting distance between himself and Elsie. Instead of that, he had hastened to her. There she was coming along the path. He stood still and stared at her in amazement.
The man grasped his arm with a grip that seemed to crush flesh and bone.
“You must not tell her that I am the strongest man in the world!” he breathed hoarsely. “Promise me you will not tell her!”
“I promise,” said Bart.
“That is all I ask,” said the man, in a low tone, releasing his hold on Hodge. “I see by your face that you are a young man who values his word.”
Then he lifted his voice, and answered:
“Here I am, Miss Bellwood. What do you want?”
“Oh, doctor!” called Elsie, “we met with such an adventure in town. The horses ran away and James fell off.”
Bart had drawn back. He would have slipped away, had it been possible to do so without being observed by the approaching girl, for he felt that he was in no mood to meet Elsie then.
How pretty she was as she came tripping through the woods. It seemed to Bart that she had never looked more beautiful.
She trusted Merriwell, and Merriwell was deceiving her! Again his heart seethed with indignation, and just then he felt that he longed to stand face to face with Frank and say a few things.
In the eyes of Bart Hodge, Elsie was the most beautiful girl in the world. In her he saw all that was sweet and good and true. He wondered how it was possible for Frank to care more for dark-eyed Inza than for golden-haired Elsie.
“The horses ran away?” exclaimed the “strong man,” with evident alarm and annoyance. “And James fell off? Well, James shall be discharged at once.”
“Oh, he was not to blame! He was not strong enough to hold them when they became frightened.”
“Not strong enough? Then he is not fit for the place. No man has a right to be weak. Strength should be sought by all. But I hope, Miss Bellwood, that the runaway did not result in a disaster?”
“Fortunately not, doctor. The horses were stopped.”
“Good—very good! Who did it?”
“A policeman tried to stop them first.”
“It was his duty!”
“But he did not succeed. Oh, I was so frightened! He was thrown down, and I thought he must be killed.We found out afterward that he was not very badly hurt.”
“He got hold of the horses?” asked the man frowning.
“Yes, but he could not hold them.”
“Weakling!” muttered the man, contemptuously. “Why, had I been in his place, I’d stopped them in their tracks!”
“They were mad with terror, and it seemed that no one could check them. But there was a young man who ran out, got them by the bridles, and brought them to a stand.”
“Ah!” cried the man, with a show of interest. “He must be the possessor of some strength.”
“He’s the greatest athlete in Yale. His name is Frank Merriwell.”
Elsie had stopped a short distance away. As he leaned against a tree which shielded him from her view, Hodge had not been discovered by her. Standing thus, Bart heard her tell how Frank had stopped the runaway horses. It gave him a strange sensation, and all at once he began to wonder if the meeting between Frank and Elsie had been unintentional, or accidental.
“Oh, yes; I know about him,” said the man called “doctor.” “I have seen him many times in athletic sports and games. I presume some men would regard him as rather strong.”
“You should have seen him drag those horses to a stop, doctor! Mrs. Parker wished me to come and tell you about it. She thought I might find you here, and——”
Elsie stopped. For the first time, she perceived that the man was not alone. Finding he was discovered, Bart stepped out into view, lifting his hat.
“Bart Hodge?” she cried, astonished. “Here?”
“Yes, Miss Bellwood,” he said, in a tone of voice that sounded strained and unnatural. “It is a surprise to us both, I fancy.”
“So you are acquainted?” exclaimed the man, looking from one to the other. “Well, well!”
Elsie started forward, her hands outstretched.
“I am so glad to see you, Bart!” she cried, her cheeks turning crimson.
“Are you?” he exclaimed, feeling his heart give a great throb of joy.
“Why, of course I am!” she asserted, as he met her and clasped her hands.
“But you did not let me know you were in New Haven.”
“You’ll find a letter when you get back to town. I dropped one in the office for you.”
“But Frank knew you were here.”
“He did not know I was coming. Oh, Bart, you should have seen him fling himself at the heads of thosesnorting, terrified horses and bring them to a stop! It was grand, and it was just like him!”
Admiration for Frank thrilled her; Hodge saw it in her face and heard it in her voice.
“She loves him still!” he told himself, his heart sinking.
“Then there was no harm done?” asked the “strong man,” seeming awakened at last to the possibility that the runaway might have resulted in damage.
“None, save to the policeman who tried to stop the horses, doctor. Of course, Mrs. Parker was frightened. James drove the team home, and we came by trolley as far as we could, and walked across.”
“I’ll discharge him at once!” declared the man.
“Please don’t!” entreated Elsie, leaving Bart and turning to the man. She fluttered to him, placing her gloved hands on his muscular arms and looking up into his face entreatingly. “I am sure James does not deserve to be discharged, doctor. Promise me that you will not do that.”
He melted before her appeal.
“Oh, well,” he said, “I’ll have to reprimand him, but, as long as you ask it, I’ll not discharge him.”
“Oh, that’s a good doctor!” she laughed. He patted her cheek, and she turned to Bart in triumph.
“Now,” she said, “you must explain how you happen to be here, sir.”
“I left town for a walk, and just wandered along here; that’s all.”
“Well, wasn’t that odd! And I’m so glad to see you! You had to leave Charlottesville in such a hurry.”
“That’s right,” he agreed. “I left much before I was ready to do so.”
“We are going to stay here for several weeks, perhaps. Now, if Inza and Winnie were here, how jolly it would be!”
The man had turned from them to the lodge, the doors of which he was closing and locking.
“Who is he?” asked Bart, nodding toward him.
“Doctor Lincoln,” she answered. “He is Mrs. Parker’s brother.”
“You are visiting him?”
“Yes. He lives here at Whitney Hill all by himself.”
“Is he a practising physician?”
“No. He has never practised. He is wealthy, and it has been his fad to experiment. He’s rather peculiar.”
“Rather,” agreed Bart. “I found that out very quickly.”
“But he is so kind and good. Some people around here seem afraid of him.”
“Some of the neighbors?”
“Yes.”
Bart nodded.
“I shouldn’t wonder.”
She looked at him searchingly.
“Why should they fear him?” she asked. “Hasn’t a man a right to his own peculiar ways? He built this lodge here in the grove in order to have a private laboratory where he could continue his experiments and investigations undisturbed. He says the neighbors were very curious about it, and used to come prying round till he was forced to find ways of frightening them off. Then they took a dislike to him and said he was queer.”
“Elsie,” said Bart seriously, “I am afraid Doctor Lincoln is not just right in his upper story.”
“Oh, you misjudge him!” she whispered. “I am sure you do! He is very kind in the house. He’s simply original.”
“There are hundreds of men in the country with his original ways who are spending their days in lunatic asylums,” murmured Bart, whose feelings had changed greatly. He escorted Elsie to the house, Doctor Lincoln following them at a distance, and giving them a chance to talk quite freely. Bart found that he had suspected Frank without the least cause, and he saw that his jealousy was groundless and foolish as far as he had thought Frank meant to turn to Elsie again.
But still within him was the feeling that Elsie stillcared for Merry, and that was gall and wormwood to him. He longed to tell her everything, but resolved to see Frank and talk with him again before doing so. Just then Hodge fancied that he was in need of advice, and who was better able to advise him than Frank?
Elsie told Bart that Mrs. Parker had asked the doctor to have a house-party of college men and young ladies at Whitney Hill, and he had agreed.
“The invitations are to go out to-morrow,” she said. “We’ll have a delightful time. Oh, if Inza were here!”
Bart wondered if she felt no jealousy of Inza.
Having bade Elsie adieu, and waved his hand to the doctor, who returned the salute, Bart turned his face toward the city.
The fever had left his veins, and his heart was beating in its usual manner as he swung along. But he was ashamed of himself on account of the bitter things that had filled his mind in regard to Frank, and he resolved to make a confession and ask pardon.
His love for Elsie was more intense than ever. While he thought of her, visions of the strange, uncanny doctor kept obtruding upon him. He saw the man standing there in the woods, big, thick, muscular, staring at the huge stone at his feet. He seemed harmless enough, but Bart was firm in his conviction that such queer characters were dangerous, and should be watched. This being the case, he could not helpfeeling uneasy about Elsie as long as she remained at Whitney Hill.
It was growing dusk when Bart came swinging down Whitney Avenue. He did not look like the same person who had rushed madly and blackly out of town a while before. His face wore such a pleasant look that he was positively handsome.
Some children had been playing a game of tag. One of them fell and was hurt. Bart stopped, picked up the child, wiped away its tears, soothed it to laughter, and left it with a quarter clasped in its soiled fingers.
Straight to Frank, Bart went. He found Merry in his room, writing steadily, manuscript scattered about. Often, of late, Bart had found him thus employed, and he wondered somewhat what the nature of Frank’s work could be.
“Where have you been, Hodge?” Frank asked. “I’ve tried in vain to find you.”
“Have you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I wished to tell you something.”
“About——”
“Elsie—she is here.”
“I know it.”
“You have seen her?”
“Yes.”
Then, without shielding himself in the least, Bart told Frank how he had seen him helping Elsie onto the car, and how he had fancied all sorts of bad things about him. Hodge’s face was flushed with shame as he proceeded. Several times Merriwell tried to check him, seeing that this confession was causing him great humiliation and distress, but the penitent fellow would not desist until he had finished.
When it was finished they stood there, Frank looking straight at the dark-faced lad, whose eyes were on the floor. The silence caused Hodge to look up.
“I don’t blame you, Merriwell!” he exclaimed. “I don’t blame you for despising me! I’m a bad fellow to think such things of you, after all you have done for me!”
“It’s not that I am thinking, Hodge,” said Frank gently. “I am thinking of the great change in you since the days when we first met. Then you would not have confessed you were wrong if you had committed a crime; now you are eager to confess, when you have no more than thought wrong of me.”
“That was a crime! How could I think wrong of you after all you have done?”
“What have I done? We have been friends, and I’m sure you’ve done as much for me as I ever did for you.”
“No, no!”
“You saved my life. You dragged me from the burning hotel.”
“You have done a thousand times more than that for me. You have saved me from dishonor and disgrace. You have saved me from going wrong and becoming a dissolute reprobate. All that I am and all that I hope to be I owe to you! Yet I could hold hatred for you in my heart this day! Oh, Merriwell, the shame of it is too much to bear!”
He shook with the intensity of his emotion, covering his drawn face with his hands. Quickly Frank advanced to his side, and his arm went across Bart’s shoulders.
“You think too badly of yourself, old man,” declared Frank. “You were jealous, and jealousy has parted the truest friends.”
Bart turned and caught hold of Merry.
“But it shall not part us!” he cried fiercely. “Say it shall not part us, Frank!”
“I hope not, Bart. We will not permit it.”
“No, no! Such friendship as ours comes but once in a lifetime! Once lost, nothing can ever take its place.”
Frank nodded.
“That is true,” he said. “I think there is no danger, Bart.”
“But can you feel just the same toward me after—after this?”
“Just the same, old man? If anything, I must think more of you. You might have hidden it from me, and I’d never been the wiser.”
“Oh, I couldn’t! Had I thought such things wrongly of any one else, I’d never confessed it; but of you——”
“I understand, Bart. You had no reason to be jealous, for you know I am engaged to Inza.”
“Elsie does not know?”
“Because you have not told her, after asking the privilege to do so. I should have let her know it long ago but for that. Bart, you must tell her. It is not treating her right to keep it from her.”
Then Hodge confessed why he had not told her before—confessed that he feared she still cared for Merry.
“I hope you are not right, Bart. Something tells me that you are not. But you know it is possible that she believed she would be doing me an injustice if she learned to care more for another, and Elsie would not, to save her life, do anything she thought wrong. The safest way, Bart, is to tell her everything. If you will not, you must let me do it.”
“I will!” said Hodge resolutely. “There is to be a party out there, given for Elsie, and we’ll receive invitations to-morrow. At that party, I’ll find a way to tell her, Frank.”