A handsomer specimen of young manhood could not have been found. The
flowering spray in his buttonhole seemed part of the jaunty new suit
which so became him. He was clean-looking and energetically wholesome.
From the crown of his head to the soles of his feet he was nattily neat,
yet he was as far from being dudish in appearance as it is possible for
one to be. He looked to be what he was--strong, and lithe-limbed, almost
physically perfect, with a handsome, intelligent face, hopeful,
courageous heart, and active brain.
Yet many things had come to trouble him in the past twenty-four hours,
even though his bright face showed not a trace of their annoying effect.
Chief of these things, of course, was the defection of Bart Hodge. Hodge
had gone away stubbornly angry, and Merriwell had not seen him since the
moment of parting.
Every member of the "flock" was hot against Hodge, and had not hesitated
to speak plainly. Hodge's rebellious spirit had rallied them round
Merriwell as one man. Browning and Diamond had even argued that he ought
not to be longer recognized as a member of Merriwell's set. The only one
who had ventured to stand up for him, aside from Merriwell himself, was
Harry Rattleton. Frank had defended him to the last, insisting that
allowances should be made for the peculiarities of Bart's disposition,
and asserting that he would be found all right in the end.
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