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

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Frank laughed.

“That is the worst kind of foolish talk,” he said. “Hodge would not run from an army of fellows like Lester Vance.”

“I don’t b’lieve he would, uther,” nodded Ephraim.

“If Vance had such a fancy in his head he is fooling himself.”

“I kainder think he b’lieves it hisself, by thutter!”

“He doesn’t know the kind of material Bart Hodge is built from.”

“Whut yeou goin’ to do, Frank?”

“I shall attempt to follow Hodge and bring him back.”

“No? Yeou don’t mean it!”

“Certainly I mean it. Do you think I am going to let the poor fellow go to ruin? To-morrow he will be overwhelmed with shame for his hasty act, but that very shame will keep him from returning unless I find him and bring him back.”

“Frank,” said Ephraim, “yeou are the kaind of a friend to hev! Yeou stick to yeour friends to the last gasp. Be yeou goin’ right erway?”

“Yes.”

“Do yeou know where Bart’s gone?”

“No; but I have a fancy that he has struck for St. Joseph first. I shall try to trace him there.”

“Will yeou be back to-morrer?”