Читать книгу Frank Merriwell's Trust; Or, Never Say Die онлайн

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Diamond was right. The fear of being regarded as “soft” makes moral cowards of the most of us. We hesitate to extend a helping hand to a brother in distress for fear the world will look on, laugh, and dub us “silly.” And repeated refusals to offer aid renders us callous and hard and unfeeling, so that we give little heed to distress and do not seem to care when we see a human soul, like a disabled vessel, drifting down the stream of life to the cataract of destruction. “It’s none of our business,” we say, and let it go. It is our business—it is your business, my business, everybody’s business! It is our duty to stretch forth a hand to succor and save the unfortunate creature if it is in our power to do so.

Twice this eventful night the hand of Frank Merriwell had been stretched out, each time to men who were strangers to him, for Madison, like Collins, could not be regarded as anything more.

The cab rolled down to Broadway and the hotel was reached. They got out and Frank paid the driver.