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

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“All right, all right,” muttered Jack feebly. “Don’t lecture! I won’t smoke. But you’re not going to walk far, are you?”

“Not very.”

“About how far?”

“Five miles.”

Diamond protested; he was in no condition to stand it. His protests were unavailing; Merry said he must stand it.

So they set out, and Frank set the pace, which soon brought the color into Diamond’s pale cheeks. North-ward along Broadway they strode until the park was reached, and then Frank gave his companion a merry chase through the park, coming out at last on Fifth Avenue, by way of which they returned to the hotel.

Jack was pretty tired when they got back there, but he confessed that he was beginning to feel better.

Now Frank sought to find out if there had come a reply to the message he had sent his father. On inquiry, he was informed that Mr. Charles Merriwell had sailed from Charleston on the steam-yacht Petrel early the previous day.

“Sailed for what place?” asked Frank.

But that they could not tell him, only knowing that the gentleman had sailed and the message to him had not been delivered into his hands.