His thoughts were of
Barney Mulloy. In memory he traveled the round of the Fardale days. The
death of Mulloy in that terrible manner had upset him more than he had
realized. He had not felt it so much during his exciting experiences and
while weighted down with anxiety concerning the fate of the _Merry
Seas_.
"I just can't sleep!" he muttered, seating himself at last by a window
and looking out toward the sea, along a greensward on which the
moonlight fell lovingly. "Poor Barney! Perhaps I ought to have gone on
to Sea Cove and begun my investigations at once. But Inza was so tired.
She has held up bravely, dear girl, through it all, but this evening she
looked ready to drop. I felt that we ought not to go on until she was
rested. She will sleep well now, since she knows that her father is
safe."
Something dark moved among the shadows, and a familiar form approached.
Merriwell started up with a low cry:
"Barney Mulloy!"
He saw the young Irishman as plainly as he had ever seen him. The face,
though, was white and bloodless. The ghostly figure moved with a heavy
step, coming straight up the walk toward the building. Frank sat rooted
to his chair. In the shadow of the piazza the figure seemed to turn, and
was then lost to view. Merriwell threw up the window.
Pages:
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268