Читать книгу Frank Merriwell's Prosperity; or, Toil Has Its Reward онлайн

13 страница из 61

At first Merry felt like following him. His own blood was throbbing hotly in his veins on account of the injustice with which he had been treated, but he had held himself in check with a firm hand. Frank had learned that the man who can master himself can master others, and his self-control was something remarkable.

He quickly decided that it would be best to give Bart a chance to cool down somewhat. In the meantime, he would learn exactly what had happened on the stage. Merry hoped Bart’s sense of justice would reassert itself and would bring the hot-blooded fellow back with a desire to retract.

As for Bart, he was so blind with passion that he actually stumbled against Stella Stanley as he hurried across the stage behind the rear setting.

“Look out!” she exclaimed, with a short laugh. “Do you want to kill me?”

“I feel like killing somebody!” panted Bart, glaring at her; “but not you—not you, Miss Stanley,” he quickly added.

“Oh, you don’t want to take it that way,” she said. “You’ll get used to it after you have been in the business longer. We don’t get many call downs from Havener. I’ve been in companies where the stage manager would swear and tear around, and no member of the cast escaped being hauled over the coals.”