“Then what is crawling over you? If you are fool enough to make this silly division, you can go back with money enough to take you through your course in style.”

“And have the memory of what happened in this town last night rankle in my heart! Hardly! I made a speech from the stage last night, in which I said I would play again in this city, and I promised that the audience should be satisfied. I shall keep that promise.”

“Oh, all right! I suppose you’ll be thinking of rewarding the ladies and gentlemen who called here a short time ago and attempted to bulldoze you?”

“I shall see that the members of the company, one and all, are treated fairly. I shall pay them two weeks salary, which will be all they can ask.”

Hodge got up, thrust his hands deep into his pockets, and stared at Frank, with an expression on his face that was little short of disgust.

“You beat them all!” he growled. “I’d do just like that – I don’t think! Not one of those people has a claim on you. I’d let them all go to the deuce! It would be serving them right.”

“Well, I shall do nothing of the sort, my dear fellow.”

“I presume you will pay Lloyd Fowler two weeks salary?”

“I shall.”

Bart turned toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going out somewhere all alone by myself, where I can say some things about you. I am going to express my opinion of you to myself. I don’t want to do it here, for there would be a holy fight. I’ve got to do it in order to let off steam and cool down. I shall explode if I keep it corked up inside of me.”

He bolted out of the room, slamming the door fiercely behind him.

Frank and Ephraim went up to the room of Stella Stanley, which was on the next floor. They found all the members of the company packed into that room.

“May we come in?” asked Merry, pleasantly.

“We don’t need him,” muttered Lloyd Fowler, who was seated in a corner. “Don’t get him into the benefit performance. Let him take care of himself.”

“Come right in, Mr. Merriwell,” invited Stella Stanley. “I believe you can sing. We’re arranging a program for the benefit, you know. Shall we put you down for a song?”

“I hardly think so,” smiled Frank.

“Ah!” muttered Fowler, triumphantly. “He thinks himself too fine to take part in such a performance with the rest of us.”

“I rather think you’ve hit it,” whispered Charlie Harper.

“And I know you are off your trolley!” hissed Cassie Lee, who had not missed the words of either of them. “He’s on the level.”

“Really!” exclaimed Miss Stanley, in surprise and disappointment. “Do you actually refuse?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because there will be no performance.”

“Won’t?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I refuse to permit it,” said Frank, a queer twinkle in his eyes.

Then several of the company came up standing, and shouted:

“What!”

“That beats anything I ever heard of in my life!” said Fowler.

“For genuine crust, it surely does!” spoke up Harper.

Cassie Lee looked surprised, and Havener was amazed.

“Surely you are not in earnest, Merriwell?” the stage manager hastened to say.

“Never more so in my life!” answered Frank, easily.

“Then you’re crazy.”

“Oh, I guess not.”

“Well, you are,” said Garland. “You have gone over the limit. We are not engaged to you in any way. You said so. You explained that we could not hold you responsible. You cannot come here and dictate to us. We shall carry out this performance. If you try to prevent it, you will make a great mistake.”

“Be calm,” advised Merry. “You are unduly exciting yourself, Mr. Garland.”

“Well, it’s enough to excite anyone!”

“Meow!”

Out of the room trotted Frank’s black cat, which had followed him up the stairs.

“Put that cat out!” cried Agnes Kirk. “It has caused all our bad luck!”

Frank picked the cat up.

“I told you the cat was a mascot,” he said. “It has proved so!”

“I should say so!” sneered Fowler.

“Let him take himself out of here, cat and all!” cried Charlie Harper.

“Let him explain what he means by saying we shall not give a benefit performance,” urged Havener, who really hoped that Frank could say something to put himself in a better light with the company.

“Yes,” urged Cassie. “What did you mean by that, Frank?”

“Such a performance is quite unnecessary,” assured Merry.

“We’ve got to do something to raise money to get out of this city.”

“I will furnish you with the money, each and every one.”

“You?” shouted several.

“Yes.”

“How?” asked Havener. “You said a short time ago that you hadn’t enough money to amount to anything.”

“At that time I hadn’t. Since then I have been able to make a raise.”

Now there was another bustle of excitement.

“Oh!” cried several, “that’s different.”

“I knew there was something behind it!” exclaimed Cassie, with satisfaction. “Have you been able to raise enough to take us all back to Denver, Frank?”

“I think so, and I believe I shall have a few dollars left after we arrive there.”

“How much have you raised?” asked Havener.

“Forty-three thousand dollars,” answered Frank, as coolly as if he were saying forty-three dollars.

For a moment there was silence in the room, then expressions of incredulity and scorn came from all sides.

Fowler set up a shout of mocking laughter.

“Well, of all the big bluffs I ever heard this is the biggest!” he sneered.

“Say, I don’t mind a joke,” said Stella Stanley; “but don’t you think you are carrying this thing a trifle too far, Mr. Merriwell?”

“I would be if it were a joke,” confessed Frank, easily; “but, as it happens to be the sober truth, I think no one has a chance to ask. I will not only pay your fare to Denver, but each one shall receive two weeks salary, which I think you must acknowledge is the proper way to treat you.”

“I’ll believe it when I get my hands on the dough,” said Fowler. “Forty-three thousand fiddlesticks!”

“Any person who doubts my word is at liberty to take a look at this certified check,” said Merry, producing the check and placing it on the little table.

Then they crushed and crowded about that table, staring at the check.

Fowler nudged Harper, to whom he whispered:

“I believe it’s straight, so help me! I’d like to kick myself!”

“Yes, it’s straight,” acknowledged Harper, dolefully. “I am just beginning to realize that we have made fools of ourselves by talking too much.”

“What can we do?”

“Take poison!”

“We’ll have to eat dirt, or he’ll throw us down.”

“It looks that way.”

Thus it came about that Fowler was almost the first to offer congratulations.

“By Jove, Mr. Merriwell,” he cried, “I’m delighted! You are dead in luck, and you deserve it! It was pretty hard for you to be deserted by Folansbee, in such a sneaking way. I have said all along that you were a remarkably bright man and merited success.”

“That’s right,” put in Harper; “he said so to me last night. We were talking over your hard luck. I congratulate you, Mr. Merriwell. Permit me!”

“Permit me!”

Both Harper and Fowler held out their hands.

Frank looked at the extended hands, but put his own hands in his pockets, laughing softly, somewhat scornfully.

“It is wonderful,” he said, “how many true friends a man can have when he has money, and how few true friends he really has when he doesn’t have a dollar.”

“Oh, my dear Mr. Merriwell!” protested Fowler. “I know I was rather hasty in some of my remarks, but I assure you that you misunderstood me. It was natural that all of us should be a trifle hot under the collar at being used as we were. I assure you I did not mean anything by what I said. If I spoke too hastily, I beg a thousand pardons. Again let me congratulate you.”

Again he held out his hand.

“You are at liberty to congratulate me,” said Merry, but still disdaining the proffered hand. “I shall pay you the same as the others. Don’t be afraid of that. But I shall give you your notice, for I shall not need you any more. With several of the others I shall make contracts to go out with this piece again, as soon as I can make some alterations, get new paper, and start the company.”

Fowler turned green.

“Oh, of course you can do as you like, sir,” he said. “I don’t think I care to go out with this piece again. It is probable I should so inform you, even if you wanted me.”

Harper backed away. He did not wish to receive such a calling down as had fallen to the lot of Fowler.

Cassie Lee held out her hand, her thin face showing actual pleasure.

“You don’t know how glad I am, Frank!” she said, in a low tone. “Never anybody deserved it more than you.”

“That’s right,” agreed Havener.

Douglas Dunton had not been saying much, but now he stood forth, struck a pose, and observed:

“Methinks that, along with several of me noble colleagues, I have made a big mistake in making offensive remarks to you, most noble high muck-a-muck. Wouldst do me a favor? Then apply the toe of thy boot to the seat of me lower garments with great vigor.”

Frank laughed.

“The same old Dunton!” he said. “Forget it, old man. It’s all right. There’s no harm done.”

While the members of the company were crowding around Merriwell, Fowler and Harper slipped out of the room and descended the stairs.

Straight to the bar of the hotel they made their way. Leaning against the bar, they took their drinks, and discussed Frank’s fortune.

Another man was drinking near them. He pricked up his ears and listened when he heard Merriwell’s name, and he grew excited as he began to understand what had happened.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said, after a time. “I do not wish to intrude, but I happen to know Mr. Merriwell. Will you have a drink with me?”

They accepted. They were just the sort of chaps who drink with anybody who would “set ’em up.”

“Do you mind telling me just what has happened to Mr. Merriwell?” asked the stranger, who wore a full beard, which seemed to hide many of the features of his face. “Has he fallen heir to a fortune?”

“Rather,” answered Harper, dryly. “More than forty-three thousand dollars has dropped into his hands this morning.”

“Is it possible?” asked the stranger, showing agitation. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am sure. I saw the certified check on a Carson City bank. He was broke this morning, but now he has money to burn.”

The stranger lifted a glass to his lips. His hand trembled somewhat. All at once, with a savage oath, he dashed the glass down on the bar, shivering it to atoms. As he did so, the hairs of his beard caught around the stone of a ring on his little finger, and the beard was torn from his face, showing it was false.

The face revealed was black with discomfiture and rage.

It was the face of Leslie Lawrence!

Frank’s old enemy was again discomfited!